Charcoal
by Bork and Beans
Summary: She smells clean and the way she behaves is refreshing for Peter, when he's with her he can forget about being a werewolf and all the trouble it causes. She doesn't judge him or question what he does and yet there's something that she's hiding behind her goofy smile and silly expressions. Will Peter be able to figure it out before she leaves?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hello Peter Peoples!  
****I recently started writing a teen wolf story for Derek/OC/Peter, but ultimately the story will be Derek/OC, so I figured Peter needed some loving as well right? Plus I have the perfect character in mind that will rile him up and make him laugh all the same, and I can get some much needed character development for a fiction story that she will be in.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or anything related to it, I only own my character and any other people I have added to the story.**

**Reviews: As I stated in my other Teen Wolf story all my fics are competing with each other in terms of what gets written first, the story with the most reviews gets more attention.**

**Anyway, I hope you like it.**

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Chapter One

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The first time he saw her was at the library, she was looking through an older looking book with a dark blue cover that was worn at the corners. She'd reached for it on her tip toes before huffing at her height and glancing around her before standing on the lower shelf in order to reach the darkly colored material. Smiling brightly in triumph she opened it slowly, bringing it up to her face so she could smell the pages, and then making a disgusted face when she discovered it smelled like dirty shoes.

Peter had only gone into the library to get some books for Derek, at first he'd grumbled about the errand; couldn't he get Boyd or Erica to pick it up? Then he saw her in one of the aisles, desperately trying to get something that was far above her height. He didn't care for a moment, she was just another woman in the library that he would ignore, but for some reason she piqued his interest. Perhaps it was the way she grinned so easily after something had gone her way, or the small comments she made under her breath that only he could hear.

Instead of just grabbing the books he needed and leaving he hung around for a while, observing the woman calmly as she progressed through searching for different books to read.

He liked the way her black shoulder length hair was messy and unkempt, almost matching her personality as she walked this way and that. Her soft brown eyes darted this way and that as she held up a small slip of paper with an author's name written on it. Peter almost chuckled when it slipped through her fingers and she scrambled to catch it in mid air only for it to fall to the ground. She grumbled lowly when she picked it up.

When she finally settled down to read one of her selections was the moment that Peter decided to leave, he'd most likely never see Ms. Brown Eyes again, though he silently thanked her for an entertaining visit to the library.

The next time she popped up was at the grocery store, he was checking to see what aisle canned soup was on and passed the cereal and breakfast area to see her looking blandly at boxes of poptarts. Her hair was pulled up into a messy pony tail, exposing her smooth looking neck for all to see as she picked up a box of strawberry rectangles. A sweater leaned off one of her shoulders and intensified to feeling of uncovered skin, while the bottom half of her outfit sported baggy sweatpants.

She was staring suspiciously at the nutrition facts while Peter pretended to look at granola bars not ten feet away from her. A growl surprised him and he turned to see her frowning deeply as she placed the box back into its place on the shelf, mumbling something about too much salt.

"Too much sugar for you?" Peter asked simply.

It didn't seem to surprise her that some random person was talking to her; in fact her face was relaxed when she finally glanced over at him with a friendly expression on her face. The way her eyes almost lit up at the chance to talk to someone made Peter want to smile as well, she didn't seem like a lonely person.

"I could eat sugar for days," she commented with a grin. He liked the way she smiled so blatantly unlike his nephew who he hadn't seen smile since he came back to life. "It's the sodium," she said shaking her head and looking back at the box with hatred. "If I have too much it's bad for me," she explained eyeing what he was looking at carefully.

"Isn't it bad for everyone?" He said matter of fact. She gave him a odd sort of expression, twisting her lips into an almost pout and scrunching her eyes up at him.

"Worse for me," her expression changed considerably. She nodded as if someone had made a comment she agreed with. Taking a few wary steps towards him the girl's eyes jumped around to different products in front of him before they landed on what she was looking for. "These are good, you bite 'em and they shed everywhere, but they're really good," she muttered before sneaking away from him. "Have a nice day," he heard her call out to him.

He looked to follow her form with his eyes until she turned the corner and disappeared from his vision, it was an odd sort of encounter, and he had to at least admit that. But it seemed like she was used to talking to people, her free way of expression was welcoming to him, and her scent was strange. It was one of the reasons he had been interested in her in the first place, it was a clean sort of smell, where others might smell of panic, fear, and worry. It was as if she had rubbed herself with dryer sheets.

He'd wanted to follow her when she walked by, follow that fresh smell until he found out what it was, what emotion caused that sort of scent to linger for so long? He'd certainly never scented something like her before.

After they had spoken to each other Peter caught himself thinking about the weird grocery store girl, she was cute in her own sort of way. How she had wandered into his mind was beyond him but it was nice to think about something that had nothing to do with werewolves and the pack for once. He wondered faintly where she was now, what expression was she making?

She started to show up more and more often as the days went by making Peter wonder why he had never seen her before, perhaps she had just moved here or she was visiting a friend. He hoped that the first one was true over the second; it meant that he would continue to see her.

Peter started to notice little things about her, besides smelling like fresh laundry she smelled of paint and charcoal, which were sometimes smeared on her face and dotted on her clothing. Sometimes she would be walking quickly the opposite direction on him on the street and he would see her hands covered in black. He'd seen her scratch her cheek and then remember that her hand was still dirty and all she'd done was create a dark smudge on her face. Usually after something unexpected like that happened she'd grumble about misfortune and frown deeply.

He noticed that she had a lot of different sweaters and for some reason always seemed to be cold, even when she was indoors she never pulled up her sleeves to cool down. Whenever he saw her she was alone, carting around a huge black folder that smelled strongly of charcoal and led, he figured she was an art student. It wasn't like he was stalking her or anything, he was just curious, intrigued by the odd behavior that was this woman.

He'd always thought of himself as a man who could easily get women to like him, to begin with he was actually very handsome and he knew his way around words. If you told a woman she was beautiful she would either melt in your arms or turn her back on you, after a few minutes of observation Peter usually knew which was which. He would continue accordingly, commenting on their clothing and praising a part of their body, most of the time it was their eyes. Women's eyes were always beautiful to Peter, even when they were a dull shade that housed the entire person's insecurities; the word that left his mouth was still flattering. That was how he wasted his time when Derek and the rest of the pack didn't need him.

For example, Lydia was the type of girl that would frown at a boy if they called her beautiful, immediately sensing their ulterior motives and sneering at them in response. In the end they only had eyes for one man anyway, in which case it would be Jackson. In comparison Allison, who was currently gone, would definitely fawn over a man who complimented her, it had worked for Scott anyway. It kept him busy to think of everything in this way, to figure everything out.

Peter started to seek the girl out, it was almost like she was one of his projects for the moment, except that every time he saw her and observed he found that she was unpredictable. The one time he saw her with anyone it had been an older man with lazy, exhausted eyes, they were getting lunch at the mall. The man sat down at a table while she got food for them, he caught a new expression in her eyes that day, for a moment, just a second, her eyes were sad. Then it changed, almost as if she knew someone was watching her it shifted back into the bored expression that Peter had grown used to over countless times of seeing her.

The man was her father, she'd heard him mutter that her dad was far too demanding for his own good, Peter had only wished that her father had muttered her name in return but it was never brought up. They ate their food, the girl got a salad and Peter was reminded of her complaints about salt, the knowledge made him smile, but he wanted to know more. For one, her name would be a good place to start.

Finally there was a time when they managed to talk to each other. Peter was walking through the woods when he heard the faint voice of someone singing, the sound wafted through the trees until it found him. He followed the voice until he came across her sitting on an old log with a sketch pad in her lap, he could smell the familiar scent of charcoal as she blew the powder off her paper. He wanted to ask her why she was in the forest drawing when she could be in a park and draw the same trees, but he didn't.

Instead he listened to her sing softly but not hearing the words or even caring what they said, his thoughts too caught up in paying attention to her form as she worked. This time she was wearing tan jacket that looked a couple sizes too big for her with a grey tank top underneath, her hair pulled into a dark turquoise beanie. Again her neck was exposed, almost inviting him to bury his nose into and breathe in her clean scent.

Almost as if she felt someone watching her the girl reached back to scratch at her neck, leaving a black smudge of charcoal in her wake, though it didn't seem like she remembered. Peter wanted to chuckle at her actions, if he'd seen this routine enough he knew what would happen next.

"Oh," she muttered looking down at her blackened hand blandly before her eyes widened. "Crrraaap," she said loudly wiping her hands on her already black pants. "Always," her voice was dark as she muttered. "Always, always, radda, rdsdgfgh," she mumbled letting her words turn into nonsense. Suddenly angry with herself she snapped her sketchbook closed and stuffed it into her bag before dropping the charcoal in as well.

Starting to walk again Peter met her just as she got back onto the path, her eyes were skeptical for a moment before they widened slightly as she recognized him.

"You're granola bar man," she said with a cheerful grin on her face. He was happy that she remembered their small, l chat at the store, even if his name was granola bar.

"Peter," he corrected her with a smirk on his face.

"I would shake your hand but, mines black right now," she laughed shortly showing him her charcoal covered fingers. Peter noticed the way she didn't give her own name in return and almost growled in annoyance, he'd been waiting for a while to hear what it was. What sort of name matched such a woman as this?

"Are you going this way? We can walk together," he suggested watching her expressions change. She glanced around the forest her eyes darting this way and that as she opened her lips to speak.

"I think I'm lost anyway, so if you know the way out," she stopped and turned to look at him with an ashamed smile. "That'd be great," she said shortly. He chuckled at her blunt confession; this was one of the reasons why he liked this girl, she wasn't afraid to say what she was thinking.

"Are you not used to forests?" He started walking slowly until she began to follow him.

"Not this one," her laugh carried through the trees. "When I was a kid I lived in Michigan, then moved to a place with almost no trees. So this is something I missed, but uh, didn't think I would get lost. I mean, there's even a trail and I feel like I could be stuck in here forever," she explained with a laugh.

"I've lived here for a long time, I know the way out," he reassured her.

"Cool," she muttered looking in front of her. "So how are you today?" She glanced at him warily. If she thought it was at all strange for a man she'd spoken to at the grocery store to be the only person she saw in the forest she kept it to herself, keeping her scent the same fresh smell that he liked.

"I'm fine, why do you sound like you're working somewhere," he mused watching her face fall in embarrassment.

"Old habits, too many jobs where I have to be nice to people," she hummed. "What else would we talk about?" She muttered under her breath.

"Are you an art student?" He asked her with a grin on his face. She gave him an accusing expression, letting her eyes contort into a worried glare before she smiled to confirm that she was joking with him. Reaching up to fiddle with her hat she scratched her ear before letting her fingers fall onto her neck again, leaving a trail of black smudge that made her eyes bug out as she realized what she'd done. He couldn't help but laugh at her, chuckling softly he earned a glare from her before stuffing her hands into her pockets.

"I always seem to do that," she murmured gently. "Yes, I'm going for my Masters in Studio Art, don't know what I'm going to do with it, but oh well," she huffed licking her lips.

"Is that why you moved here?" He questioned her. "Earlier you mentioned that you weren't used to the forest, but everyone that's lived he knows their way around it," he explained trying to make it sound like he wasn't following her around.

"Really now?" She scoffed at him. "I moved here to take care of my mom, she's sick and my dad can only offer so much help," her voice was soft when she spoke of her mother's condition.

"Is she going to get better, or can I expect you to be leaving soon?" he asked with a playful frown on his face.

"Oh please," she chortled. "You don't even know my name," she jested with him before her face lost its cheerfulness. Her eyes clouded over for a moment before they cleared again and she gave him a sad sort of smile, at once he knew that her mother would probably die before she showed any signs of recovery. "She won't get better," her voice was kind and gentle when she spoke.

"So what is it?" He asked her softly. It was a little strange to talk to someone who was supposed to be a stranger as if they had always spoken to each other; such was the way of how this woman worked though. He'd seen her speak to other cashiers kindly, as if they had been friends for a while and they were telling jokes.

"Huh? What's what?" She recovered very quickly from her solemn attitude.

"Your name," he answered making her smirk at him mischievously. "I told you mine," he glowered lowly at her.

"If I make it out of this forest alive I'll tell you it," she said with a laugh. Peter smiled at her tricky answer, he wasn't going to kidnap her or anything, he was just curious of the way she always acted.

They spoke scarcely for a little while, though the silence between them never felt like it was too awkward, they were simply enjoying the others company even without words. It gave Peter time to observe her further; now that they were walking next to each other he saw that she was skinny beneath the baggy clothes that he frequently saw her wearing. He noticed the way she bit her lip as she gazed around at the trees as they walked past at a slow pace, her eyes calculating which angle would be the best for drawing.

Faintly he wondered what she would think if he suddenly shifted forms and picked her up to run with through the leaves, would she scream. Would she beat against him with her blackened fingers in a feeble attempt to make him let go? He didn't know what to expect with her, most of the time women talking to him didn't hesitate to give their name; it was easy to get them to trust him. With this girl it wasn't about trusting, or was it? At the moment he didn't know, it seemed like she trusted people enough to tell them information about herself, or perhaps it was that she thought what she was telling them wasn't important. Surely what she said about her mother could be considered as valuable information.

The top of her head came up to his nose, he could easily gaze over the top of her head and probably tease her about being short. Whenever he caught sight of the black smudges on her pale skin it made him smile as he remembered her moment of realization and the expression that followed it.

When they finally did make it to the end of the trail and the end of the forest the girl smiled and glanced over at him before frantically reaching into her pocket to grab at her phone. She whistled in relief when she saw that she wasn't late yet, it was almost time to go home and take care of her mother when her father went to work. As it turned out the trail went in a big loop, not that she had cared to look at the sign when she had started her trek into the trees.

"True to your word, Mr. Peter, I think you've earned yourself a name," she took a few steps to get in front of him before she turned with a smile.

"Have I?" He asked in wonder.

"My names Marlow," she muttered glancing away from him. "I know it's weird but, I like it."

Unique was the word that popped into Peter's mind, he'd surely never heard the name before, though he knew that it was a city somewhere overseas. Marlow, for some reason he felt that no other name suited her better; certainly a name like Ashley would just feel off on her. It was much too common a name for someone like Marlow who made silly expressions and mumbled to herself bitterly when she did things incorrectly.

"I think it fits," he commented making her light up in front of him. The way she smiled when he said that made him want to smile as well, the childish attitude that she had made him feel like he had to watch her constantly else he might miss something. "Possibly because you're weird," he muttered making her frown deeply at him.

"We don't even know each other right now, you can't call me weird just yet," her voice was cold but sounded odd against her expression.

"Yet?" He questioned catching the word before she could take it back. "Are we planning another outing together?" He watched her curiously.

"Maybe?" It sounded like she was questioning herself. "Does this mean I'm not weird enough to avoid?" She asked skeptically. Peter only smiled at her in response, making her glower at him disappointingly. "That means I have to be weirder when I talk to people in order to scare them away," she mused reaching into her bag.

"Do I get your number?" He asked slyly making her gape at him abashed.

"What?" She asked showing pure shock in her eyes towards him. "Why would you want it?" Her voice was soft until she caught herself. "I thought I was too strange," she stated blandly.

"Maybe I need a little weirdness in my life," he said. She offered him a suspicious grin before shaking her head and turning to walk away from him.

"Oh Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter," she ripped a small piece of paper out of her sketchbook before pulling out a piece of charcoal. Writing something down and folding the piece of paper a few times she reached out to hand it to him, retracting her hand quickly when he took it from her. "No," her voice was breathless as she turned away from him.

"What?" He asked amused. Quickly he opened the paper and saw the words were slightly smudged due to the charcoal but he could still read it making him laugh as he watched her go.

_Maybe if we meet again._

She waved at him and shouted a goodbye while getting into her car and starting the engine, Peter turned to go back into the forest.

He liked her.

=0=0=

Looking up at her mother and father's house Marlow sighed before getting out of the car and going up to the front door, her thoughts were momentarily invaded by a certain man named Peter making her smile faintly. Then the front door opened before she could get to it, her father walked out briskly, barely glancing at her he went straight for his car and sped off in the direction of work. Marlow looked after him solemnly, when was the last time he spoke to her like a father and a daughter should?

Finally she walked into the house to be met with a lukewarm temperature that she had grown used to after a few weeks of living with her parents again. It was a temperature that made her mother comfortable as she tried to walk around the house and get her strength back up. To Marlow the temperature was only sickening, reminding her of the muggy days that she had always hated in Michigan.

"Mom I'm home," she called out into the house.

When she was a child it was common for she and her brothers to simply yell into the house and announce their arrival and departure, somewhere in the building a voice would call out in return to them. Always it was her mother telling her that she loved her and to be safe, also to call if anything happened and they were going to be late. It was something that Marlow had always taken for granted because now her mother was too weak to lift her voice to such a level.

Walking into the living room she saw her mother sitting on the couch, watching a movie with the volume turned down so low she almost couldn't hear it.

"Marlow," her mom smiled at her softly. "Welcome home," the comment made her calm down considerably.

When it came to being at home there was only one thing that was keeping her there, the fact that her mom still recognized her and smiled whenever she was in the room. If it had been her father that was sick, there would have been nothing in the world that would make her want to come home and take care of him.

"Did you get any good sketches?" She asked gently. Marlow pulled out her sketchbook to show her mother the trees she had drawn out before she and Peter began to walk and talk about random things. It was perhaps the first conversation she had held with someone outside of work and outside of her house since she had moved to Beacon Hills to take care of her mother.

While her mother continued to flip through the drawings she had done not hours before Marlow sighed before taking off her jacket, it was far too warm in the house, but she wasn't going to complain. There was no reason to keep her sleeves down at home because her mother knew everything about her and what had happened in her life. There was nothing to hide, not the bruises from a few days ago, the healing scabs and marks on her skin, her mother was there to take everything in.

"You have something black on your face," she said reaching her shaking hand up to touch Marlow's cheek.

"It's just charcoal," she laughed when her mom grinned at her. "Oh sweetie," her whispered voice brushed against Marlow. Her mother's trembling fingers tracing lightly over a green and purple bruise on her left arm, her weary eyes searching the rest of her body for injuries.

"You know how clumsy I am," the girl laughed making her mother frown darkly. There was a pained expression on the older woman's face as she gazed at her daughter, she remembered all the times she'd fallen down the stairs as a child and cried until someone hugged her. The times that her brother would push or take her toys and she would run after him only to stumble and hurt herself, in the end there was always a big grin on her face despite scabbed knees or band aids.

"I know it's painful for you to be here," she murmured rubbing her arms gently. "Marlow you don't-."

"Remember when Carson pushed me down the sledding hill that one winter?" Marlow ignored her mother and continued speaking. "I fell in the river and dad had to get me out, my socks froze on the way home," she mused recalling how she screamed in the shallow river.

"You didn't have to come home to take care of me," she said as Marlow kneelt in front of the older woman.

"Yes I did," Marlow said sternly. "You're my mother, and I love you," she stated as if that was the only thing in the world that mattered.

"I have my friends, and your aunt lives close by, you don't have to be here," she insisted. Marlow's eyes thinned before she turned away from her mother angrily; there was a hurt and bitter look that passed through her eyes. Her expression twisted into one of agony as she looked at the woman in front of her, disbelief clear on her face.

"Of course I do," she bit out making her mother's eyes harden at her stubbornness. "What kind of daughter would I be if I let my mother be sick all by herself?" She questioned looking into the hazel eyes in front of her.

"I can't protect you like I used to," she spoke as if her actions had failed. Marlow frowned before growling in response.

"It's my turn now, I'm strong enough to shield both of us," her voice was powerful. Her mother smiled at Marlow fondly, trying to recall the days when she had been the one to take the full brunt of damage. "Do you want some water, because I'm thirsty," she brushed off the serious tone of the conversation without blinking. There was nothing the woman could say that would change Marlow's mind, she already made her decisions, and everything was going according to plan.

The front door was slammed shut at around eleven, meaning that her father had needed to stay late and work overtime at his job. It meant that he would be grumpier than usual and would probably need to blow off some steam, how very convenient it was for Marlow to be walking up the stairs at the very moment he came home.

She stopped short when their eyes locked, her expression changing into a blank stare as he approached her slowly, as if he was a cat staring down at a helpless mouse. It had been this way since her brother died, he was only twenty one when he left the world and it'd killed their father, leaving an empty shell of a man. It was one of the reasons why Marlow had left home so quickly after turning eighteen, she wasn't her brother that her father had been so proud of, the son he had always wanted and loved.

How many times had he told her that it would've been much better if she had died instead?

If Carson was still here his life would have been much better, he was the favorite of the family anyway, Marlow had been an afterthought, the younger sibling who could never quite measure up. So when he passed away her father took out all his rage on her, sometimes while he was gripping her skin tight enough for his fingernails to break skin he started crying. After a while Marlow understood that he was simply overcome with such great sadness that he had to get it out, it didn't matter how.

At first her mother had been there to push her father away, urging Marlow to leave the house unless she wanted another bruise she would have to hide at school. It lasted until the day she moved out, her only regret was that she couldn't take her mother with her, even though the woman assured her that he would not harm her. He never did, but Marlow couldn't help but feel like she'd abandoned her mother to someone who would never be the same.

He advanced on her painfully, taking each stair as if his legs were made of led and he was pulling them up the steps like a bag of sand. After all she had left her mother to, all the years of just the two of them; this was the least she could do to pay her back. All the yelling that she had escaped because her mother was there, the threats, and drunken slurred words that pierced the soul in agony, her mother had saved her from those until she was able to leave.

His fingers closed around her arm tightly, holding her arm strong enough to leave a bruise that would surely show on her pale skin the next day. He almost grinned at her as she showed no emotion to him, it was like he enjoyed this now, and all the years she had been gone and trying to live her own life. This was payback; he was only making up for all the time they had missed together.

Just upstairs her mother was sleeping, or perhaps she wasn't. For all Marlow knew she could be leaning against the door and holding her breath, hoping that her husband didn't go too far, praying that when she woke up the next morning her daughter would still be able to smile. Of course she would still smile the next day, bruises were nothing to fret over, and she'd been living with what happened in their family her whole life. She'd already made her decision.

"Welcome home dad," she smiled at him softly, offering the smallest bit of cheerfulness. He wretched her body closer to his before releasing her down the stairs and watching her body knock against the wall painfully.

"This isn't _your_ home," he bit out at her hatefully.

This was the least she could do.

=0=0=

"How about that number now?" A soft voice asked her. Looking up at the sound of a chair being pulled out only to be shuffled back near the table with a body Marlow found Peter smirking slyly in front of her. "What do you say Marlow?" He mused with a glint in his eyes.

It had been a few days since they had walked and talked together in the forest, she started to wonder if she would ever see the man again. He was handsome and not unwanted company, since she didn't know anyone in town; it had been nice talking to someone besides her mother for a change. It didn't matter that he was almost completely a stranger that she knew nothing about, in her first years of college that was how she made all her friends.

She couldn't help the grin that melted onto her face as the man took a seat at her table; he even took care to lower his voice since they were in the library. His expression said that he was experienced, especially since he'd assumed that she'd given him her number when they had been outside. The arrogant man!

"Peter," she greeted him placing her book on the table. "Are you stalking me?" She countered his question with another question.

"I like to call it following very closely," he chuckled when she frowned at him. Her eyes darted around the area quickly, only seeing two other people in their vicinity she leaned forward to whisper nearer to him.

"Is a number really this important? What will you do with it?" She asked with a smirk on her face. Peter liked the way that she wasn't afraid to turn his attitude right back around and onto himself, it was like they were playing a game.

"To call you, what else would I do with it?" He questioned making her smile mischievously at him.

"You know I rarely have it on," she spoke lazily as Peter listened for her heart to give her away. She wasn't lying. "We could do it the old fashioned way and send mail to each other," she suggested gaining a growl from him. Her expression changed into one of humor at his response, Marlow thought she was the only person that made that noise when she was angry or irritated.

"I'm afraid I don't have the patience for that," he explained gaining a grin from the girl in front of him. "Maybe if we lived right next to each other," he muttered making her laugh loudly before covering her mouth. She glanced around to make sure that no one was glaring at her from her outburst. He gave her a surprised glance before checking the area with her, his lips twisting up into a wicked smirk that she glared at.

"We could yell at each other faster than our hands would be able to write," she said trying to hide a blush that crept onto her cheeks.

"You would yell at me?" He faked hurt.

"Who wouldn't?" She muttered keeping a straight face when he gave her a crestfallen expression.

It continued on like that for another hour, Peter had never thought he would be able to keep a conversation going that long, especially with a woman. Most of the time they only spoke to each other long enough to learn the basics and make sure they called out the rights names during bed time. It was strange for him to be sitting down and talking to someone whom he had an interest in, and yet while they spoke he paid no attention to time.

Nothing seemed to matter except for listening to each other's voices as they whispered in the ever passing appearance of people in the library. The once in a while shush from an employee who decided they were being too loud, the not sorry at all grin that was always plastered on Marlow's face as the worker walked away. She was fun to talk to, he realized in the middle of one of her stories that she brought comments out of him and it got to the point where he was telling stories of his own.

Describing how he and his siblings would go crazy some nights and fight each other for no reason only to wake up the next morning and cry as they apologized repeatedly. She would counter with a story of her own about her older brother who once locked a bike chain around the belt loop in her pants, she'd cried for an hour until her father finally cut it off. He found out that it was very hard to keep her quiet, that she was animated when she spoke and was almost as excited as he was when he found another story to tell.

He felt comforted when she chuckled softly and let certain comments hang in the air for a few moments before they journeyed down another path of silly stories and getting to know each other better. He was sure that he'd never see all the expression and faces that she had to offer because whenever he made a snarky comment there was a new one twisting her features around.

It made him forget about being a wolf and all the troubles that came with it again, and he felt like spending the rest of the day sitting in the library and talking to Marlow about random idiotic things. She felt much the same way, going back to the times in high school where as long as her friends were smiling she was smiling. If they were happy she could be happy and forget about everything that was going on at home, she could pretend that nothing had happened to her father and pretend everything was okay.

Except this time there was no need for her to lie to her friends faces because she was okay, even with the bruises that were healing beneath the sleeves of her jacket and the knowledge that there might be more tonight. She felt free a while, Peter was kind and jumped into her way of conversing without too much trouble, she liked hearing about his family because it sounded so normal. Of course hers sounded normal as well; there was no telling what might be happening to him right now, or how much his family had changed.

But it didn't matter, as long as Peter was willing to listen to her run her mouth Marlow would continue to talk about how her family used to be, and hide the fact that she missed it greatly.

Finally looking down at her phone Marlow muttered something under her breath that made Peter chuckle lightly. Taking out a piece of paper she wrote something quickly before standing up and making Peter frown at her in response.

"Sorry, I have to go take care of my mom after my dad goes to work," she explained making Peter nod his head understandingly. This was the family member that she had moved back here to take care of; the one she knew wasn't going to get better. "It was nice talking to you Mr. Arrogant," she teased making him smirk at her.

"Does this mean you won't give me your number?" He asked blandly making Marlow laugh softly.

"What do you think I was writing down?" She muttered giving him her number on the paper she had been writing on.

"Will you keep your phone on?" His voice was doubtful. But for all the right reasons, she'd told him a story about how her old friends always complained because she never answered their texts. She simply told them that she hadn't gotten anything, then she turned her phone on and there would be at least ten new messages.

"Maybe," she grinned at him before turning away quickly. His eyes followed her until she walked out of sight, looking down at the number written on the piece of paper with a soft smile on his face. Marlow was wearing much the same expression as she walked to her car.

Moving out of her house had been a hard thing to do; she'd gotten a job and rented an apartment with low rates in order to be able to stay away from her father. Going to school and working at the same time was hard at first and she couldn't find time to make any news friends at the local community college, her high school friends had moved away.

Then when she finally made friends they were only around for a few years before they all went off to different universities, scarcely talking to each other again. Marlow hadn't heard from some of those people in a long time, a few years perhaps. There was no one waiting for her to get back after taking care of her mother, she really didn't have a home to go home to, or one that she considered comforting anyway.

But this was nice, talking to someone that she was starting to consider a friend. She was sure that Peter was more of the type to meet girls and bring them home in the same night, all the while complimenting them. Was she happy that he was taking the time to get to know her? Yes, she made up her mind that she didn't need a relationship at the moment, just a good friend to stay with her until the end. Everyone wishes for a friend like that right?

Pulling up in the driveway to her mother's house Marlow sighed when she saw her father coming out of the house and getting into his own car. He didn't glance her way or even acknowledge that she was there, she could've been a squirrel and he would pay more attention to her.

A buzz in her pocket made Marlow a little excited, perhaps it was someone from back home wondering if everything was going okay, she'd told a couple people what was happening. It wasn't, but it made her smile all the same, it was safe to say that Peter was someone she liked.

_This is Peter; did you make it home okay?_

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**AN: If you can't tell already this story is going to be a slow builder that will tear your heart open slowly along the way, I wanted to write a lazy story as a way to take a break from my other more action focused ones. I'm trying to stick to Peter's character but if it's a little off I apologize, I'm also sorry for any typos or mistakes that you may have found, I hate editing. **

**I don't expect too much from this story, and at the same time I want to make people hurt, so this story could be fun if you like Peter enough to wait on this abomination of a fanfic. I don't usually write like this, so it should be fun.**

**Anyway, tell me what you think?**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thank you Kiba and 'Guest' for for words, I wanted to update sooner but was delayed so finally I finished writing this chapter for you two specifically. Again There is minimal to no editing done because I am lazy and wanted to get this on the internet already.**

**Disclaimers as always, don't forget to review if you want this story to get updated. Thanks for reading hope you like this chapter!**

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**Chapter Two**

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Running to her room at her parent's house Marlow closed the door quickly, locking the door with a short breath she moved away from it as thundering footsteps neared. Her father stopped in front of the door and heaved loud enough for Marlow to hear from the other side of the wall; she could still feel his hands gripping onto her shoulders all too tightly. He raised one fist to the wood before him and pounded it onto the door making it shake and tremble under his touch, just as Marlow had done when he threw her on the ground. Her head had smashed against the wall hard enough to make her waver on her feet and even consider hiding in her room to get away from him, he'd seriously hurt her this time.

"Carson never hid from a beating when he deserved it," his raspy voice could be heard. Marlow shivered at the sound of it, he often compared her to her brother when he threw her around, and it meant that he was just getting started.

Taking careful steps towards the door Marlow thought about her words carefully, her mind still fuzzy and pulsating with pain she stopped just close enough to lean her cheek against the painted wood. He hit the door again making her blink away from the darkness that threatened to overtake her vision; she'd not even noticed her poor level of health.

"But you never beat him, he was your favorite," she said blandly making him stop for a moment. There was another bone shaking pound against the door that made her wilt against her bed; her vision grew fuzzy at the sides while she glanced towards her window. The guest bedroom was on the first floor so she could escape if she really wanted to, and right now it was something that she needed.

"Don't speak to your father that way," the door rattled again a she stared at it solemnly.

There was a time when she was younger that her father would come in with a book in his hands, asking if she wanted a story before she went to bed, sometimes her brother would join them and fall asleep next to her. Her father would then pick him up and bid her a goodnight before closing the door to her room quietly if she had already succumbed to the sleep that her brother had fallen to.

That man was long gone by now, no more gentle words or kind actions, he was simply someone who looked the same as her father did, and even then his eyes were much too cruel.

"Open this door," he shouted making it shake even more. "Just wait till I tell your mother about this," he seethed before his presence at the door left.

Marlow's eyes widened when she thought of what that meant for her mom, in her father's current state of mind he could actually hurt her. Pulling the door open quickly Marlow was met with a foot in her stomach that knocked the breath from her lungs as her father sneered at her bitterly. His smirk made her growl angrily only gaining another kick from him that made her cough and gag pathetically.

"Knew that would work," he said with a grin on his face. Instead of saying something back to him she shut her mouth and closed her eyes for the remained of what he said to her, this earned her more punches and kicks. Eventually her father started crying for his son that had left the world, cursing her existence a few more times before leaving her on the floor with a bit of blood trickling down her forehead and a tightness in her chest. She heard him walk into the kitchen and slump against a wall, his knuckles sore from work and pounding them into the door and her skin. All the while he was careful to never hit her face else someone would question what was going on at home or if she was being abused, he was careful and guilty.

"I'm sorry," he muttered running his hands through his hair quickly. "Sorry," he blubbered letting tears fall down his cheeks when he caught sight of a bit of blood on his hands. His daughter's blood. His soft sobbing found its way to Marlow's room where she was slowly picking herself up and walking stiffly to close the door and lock it once again. If her mother woke early the first thing she did was check up on Marlow, to make sure that whatever her father had done it wasn't too critical that she wouldn't wake at all.

It was a sad sound, her father crying from what he had just done; it happened every so often that he would realize what he was doing and stop himself, trying to apologize to Marlow when all she wanted was to be alone. This was his daughter that he was beating, there was a bit of remorse that came with the feeling of hitting her skin and seeing the bruises that were his fault when she got up in the morning. Yet he couldn't stop himself, every night, every time he saw her, if only Carson were alive.

Walking carefully into the guest bathroom Marlow pulled her lips into a sickening expression when she saw the state she was in, blood down the side of her face, a split lip from biting down on it too hard. Her shaking hands began to clean off the crimson stain on her face as her empty eyes stared by at her in the mirror. At first when he father had started beating her she cried a lot, whenever she started to he would yell at her for being weak. Carson had never been weak! So she stopped, no more tears, no more fighting back, it didn't matter.

"This is for mom," she said sternly to her defeated self in the mirror.

An expression of determination flooded into her eyes when she thought of how her mother must feel hearing everything from upstairs in her bedroom. Perhaps she was crying right now, weeping for the daughter she could no longer protect from the man that she still loved, she had to be strong for her.

"I can do this."

=0=0=

Peter was slightly surprised to walk by a small coffee shop and see Marlow sitting inside with a sketchpad on the table in front of her, out of all the times he had seen her she'd never been there. Regardless of that he still walked inside with a grin on his face, hoping that she would see him automatically but she didn't look up to see who had just walked inside.

Her eyes were hard as she stared at the paper below her, her pencil moving wildly as she shaded and darkened the lines of her artwork. Moving slowly she leaned against the window, her shoulder hitting the glass only slightly made her eyes twinge slightly in pain. Immediately Peter wondered what had happened to her, she'd explained to him last time that she was pretty clumsy most of the time and always had injuries from things that she couldn't recall happening.

"What are you drawing?" He asked watching for her reaction. She stopped drawing and almost looked away from him for a moment before letting her eyes glance up at him accusingly. She gave him a suspicious expression before leaning back in her chair and lifting the sketchbook up for him to see what she was working on.

"Facial features," she murmured moving away from him when he went to grab the paper from her hands. There were at least five sketched of lips, crinkled noses, and narrowed eyes as she tried to get nasty faces drawn down from looking in a small pocket mirror she had on the table.

He glanced up at her with a smirk as she gave him a playful pout, it was then that he noticed her split lip; she grazed her tongue over it nervously as he stared at her without saying anything.

"What happened to your lip?" He couldn't help but let the question fall from his mouth. She gave a short laugh as her heartbeat quickened before calming to its normal pace at which she told all of her stories at.

"I was trying on some old shoes that were always too big for me. Walked down the stairs and caught one of the steps right on the edge before falling down the rest of the stairs and running into the wall," she explained with an ashamed blush on her face. Peter offered her a comical countenance before letting a small chuckle escape. She glared at him darkly, her eyes flashing with anger before changing to an amused expression of her own. "Don't laugh at me," she mumbled.

"What did your mother think of that?" He asked her with a grin. For a single moment there was a look of sorrow that passed through her eyes, though it was gone in an instant, he wasn't quite sure it was there at all.

"She was worried, as always, but I laughed it off," she smiled at him. He imagined seeing her at the top of the stairs with a grin on her face as she assured him the shoes fit before tumbling down the stairs. He'd catch her before she hit anything too hard but laugh at her all the same for her own clumsiness and stubborn attitude, of only he'd been there to catch her this time. "Anyway, why are you here? Following me again?" She questioned giving him an apprehensive stare.

"Always," he smirked slyly at her reaction. "No, I was just walking by and saw you in here, decided to say hello," he was actually telling the truth this time, a rarity for him. "I see that you aren't even drinking coffee, why are you here?" he asked only noticing a cup of tea near her.

"Coffee is disgusting," she offered him a horrified gaze. "Looks like motor oil," she gagged before making sure no one was giving her dirty looks. "I'm just not ready to go home yet," she muttered hugging her shoulders subconsciously. Peter didn't miss the action and still there was the lingering question that came at the memory of her wince when she'd lent against the glass.

"You can waste time with me," he suggested finally taking a seat at her small table.

"That sounds fun," she said in a bland voice that made him glower at her. He liked that she was sarcastic with him, not wary, cautious, or fake like most women were when they were sure they would be rewarded at the end.

"I was thinking we could go to the museum since it's just down the block, I'm sure you haven't been there yet," he said making her face brighten at the mention of a museum she hadn't been to.

"An art museum?" She asked making him smile at her enthusiasm.

"Yes," he smirked when she moved towards the edge of her seat excitedly.

"I didn't even know this town had one, let's go," she replied taking her sketchbook away from him slowly. She then proceeded to open her bag and place it in there quickly; moving her hands this way and that showed Peter the black mark of pencil led on her right hand, there was always something. She took one last sip of her tea before making a nasty face at the cold temperature of it; she grabbed the remainder of it and tipped it into the trash carefully.

"Are you really excited about this, or is it another one of your sarcasm bits?" He asked giving her a suspicious gaze.

"Guess," she muttered letting a smile sneak onto her face. She then left him in the coffee shop for a moment while he shook his head amused, a smirk finding its way into his lips as they twisted upwards.

Marlow was happy to have something that would distract her from having to go home to her father, today was his day off which meant that she wouldn't have to go home till later to take care of her mother. After what had happened the night before she didn't want to go back to that house at all, it had taken her forever to get her head to stop pounding and even then it ached dully. Her pale skin had twice as many bruises as it had the day before, and her blasted lip cracked whenever she chose to smile, which happened a lot when she spoke to people.

"Which way is it?" She asked once Peter joined her on the sidewalk. It wasn't even cold today and she was wearing a sweater to cover her purpling wounds that her father inflicted upon her hours before, it would be folly to assume that Peter hadn't noticed. Though he simply assumed that she was always cold, there were people that wore long sleeves all year round no matter what temperature it was. Perhaps she was one of those; it didn't bother him in the slightest.

"Follow the leader," he murmured into her ear when he walked pat her.

"Now I'm going to have that Peter Pan song stuck in my head all day, no, Peter why?" She asked him in a whiny voice that made him chuckle.

"It's not my fault," he assured her with a grin.

"It totally is," she growled as he took long strides to get ahead of her. They laughed at each other all the way down the street until he showed her the museum that he spoke about in the coffee shop. It was small but Marlow didn't seem to care, the entrance fee was only five dollars, which Peter had tried to pay for. But she would have none of that and paid for it herself despite his growls of protest, it was only five dollars he had insisted that since he had invited her it was only fair.

One they got inside Peter saw Marlow change considerably as she went from art student to curious child who wanted to see everything. She bounded from picture to picture, her eyes focusing on certain points as she muttered about shading and her grave hatred for painting whenever they came across a canvas filled with acrylic or oil. For a moment he lost her around the corners of a certain display room only to have her rush back to him with a wide eyed expression on her face.

"This way," she muttered walking away from him quickly. When he didn't follow immediately she turned and grabbed onto his arm and pulled her behind him into the next room that was covered in lines. The floor, walls, and ceiling were painted with black and white lines, much like an optical illusion that made ones brain hurt after a certain amount of time.

"Wow," he faked excitement making her frown at him darkly.

"If you look really closely at the lines," she explained pulling him closer to one of the walls. "There are words written down over and over to make it appear as if the line is solid," she said placing her eyes closely on the wall.

"I'm not very imaginative when it comes to art, this is just hurting my eyes," he muttered glancing around at the illusion that was the whole room.

"This piece is called prison, with words like worthless, useless, and unneeded lining the walls and creating black bars it's supposedly one's mind in a state of depression. After a while of feeling sorry for yourself and holding everything in your own thoughts become a prison from which you cannot escape," she murmured letting her fingers traces across the black line as she walked along the wall.

As she spoke Marlow's eyes adopted a more broken expression, her eyes changing into one of calm sorrow and understanding, her words turning into a sort of slur as her tone changed as well. It was as if she was fading away from reality at that moment, that if he didn't reach out to grab her she would leave forever.

"Peter?" A voice broke both of them away from their thoughts as Marlow turned to see a couple teenagers at the entrance to the room.

"You have friends?" She questioned with a laugh. Peter's expression fell as he glared at the two boys standing in front of them with gaping mouths; it was weird to see the older man with anyone besides Derek. Certainly not someone who was so young compared to the older man, they had to assume that she didn't know about the whole werewolf thing.

"Scott, Isaac," he greeted with a bitter look in his eyes. His expression told them to run away while they still could and not disturb them anymore than they already had. "These are my nephew's friends," he muttered to Marlow.

"Hi," Marlow said with a friendly smile on her face. "I'm Marlow," she offered her hand to shake. Scott took it awkwardly while Isaac seemed to be enjoying the fact that they could torment the older man with their presence.

"Why are you here anyway?" Peter asked coming up behind the girl. Isaac gave him an amused expression while Scott appeared suddenly apprehensive about their accidental encounter.

"Extra credit for school, we have to write a paper about a piece of work we like and talk about art stuff," he explained making Marlow smile at them brightly.

"Do you need any help? I'm going to school for my masters in art right now," she said making Peter's expression grow dark as he glared at the two boys in front of him. Scott saw his anger and shook his head, mumbling no while Isaac gave Peter a simple smirk that meant nothing but mischief. The older man stared him down only to appear indifferent when Marlow turned to glance at him.

"I think we're fine-," Scott was cut off by Isaac.

"Can you help me pick a piece that would be easy to relate to?" He said kindly enough.

"Sure," she nodded smiling at Peter briefly. "It shouldn't take too long, let's go to the next room," she urged before she and Isaac moved away from Peter and Scott.

"Don't make me hurt you," Peter growled to Scott as they stared after Isaac and Marlow.

"I can't control him," Scott complained making Peter shake his head bitterly.

He growled lowly at the teen and let his eyes flash blue before he stalked after the two in front of him. It'd been exciting when Marlow agreed to come to the museum with him, he assumed that she would mumble some excuse to going home for her mom but she seemed interested enough. The way her eyes had lit up in front of him made something inside him stir as he realized that her smile was beginning to affect. He wanted to see more of it, for her to smile at him and laugh at his antics, hear her giggle as his touch tickled her skin.

Despite the fact that Peter and Marlow's alone time had been spoiled by the two boys it was still an afternoon that was enjoyable. Isaac hadn't expected to like Marlow, or even get along with the woman; he'd just wanted to annoy Peter as much as possible by wrecking his little outing. Instead he'd made a new friend that caused random spurts of laughter and didn't hold back when it came to making jokes or picking on one another.

She was easy to talk to and fun to watch and listen to, he understood why Peter had taken a liking to her, in fact even Scott seemed to get along with her. She helped them with their assignment and helped them take notes that would be beneficial when they wrote the paper later on. It was amusing to watch her go from painting to painting and describe why she liked it or hated it.

The favorite piece of the day, at least for Isaac, had been one called 'Money,' which was a single penny placed on a golden platter in the corner of the room. Marlow had walked up to it with a pissed off expression on her face. Her eyes narrowed bitterly as her small feet began to stomp towards the piece in front of her; Scott was already smirking because he knew what was coming next after her previous rant at a display. There were certain kinds of art that the girl liked and stared at admiringly, and then there were ones like this. Peter grinned as he recognized the expression of loathing that crossed over her features like a gust of wind.

There had been another work like this already that Marlow had criticized for its simplicity, she believed that artwork should take time that the more hours put into it made the difference. Perhaps it was just because her teachers didn't accept anything that was done in a few hours that could be described in many different ways. Pieces like those could have several to hundreds of different meanings to different people, which was awesome and everything, but still made her angry for some reason.

Walking up carefully Isaac picked out the words that he would say to her with a sly smirk on his face, even in the brief time that he had gotten to know her he was sure this would set her off. She was very open when she spoke to him about things, showing almost everything she was feeling, giving each emotion an expression.

"It's so meaningful, beautiful really," he said in a soft voice that made her jaw tighten. "The single penny that represents how much life is really worth and what we gain from it in the end. So simple and yet so very meaningful," he commented hearing Scott laugh behind him.

Marlow turned to him slowly, a deep glare set into her eyes, her lips set into a thin line as her expression turned into one of disdain. Peter scoffed as he saw the face she was making; it looked like she was going to strangle the teen.

"How long do you think it took them to finish this?" He pushed her farther until she was almost closing her eyes from narrowing them so much.

"I'll kill you," she seethed. She held his eyes in her ruthless stare while she began to walk away, muttering things under her breath that made all the wolves in the room smile at her childish attitude. That was why 'Money' had been Isaac's favorite piece; it made him feel like he was picking on an old friend whom he knew everything about.

Finally their adventure led them to the gift shop which everyone knows is always the best part of any museum, for they were now looking at tiny shot glasses with famous works of art on them. Everyone in a while Marlow shot Isaac a dirty look as she had still not yet forgiven him for thinking the art was good, it didn't matter how many times he said he was joking.

After a little while of being stuck with the boys Peter realized that he was getting to know Marlow even better with more people around, so he stopped growling at them whenever she turned around. Instead he joined in on picking on her with the teens that seemed to like watching her reactions as she freaked out over small things. Of course he wished that they were still alone, even imagined wolfing out and throwing the boys across the room, but for now it wasn't too painful to bear with it.

"What is this?" Marlow's voice asked as she held up a colorful piece of glass. Isaac and Scott frowned at it, taking it from her hand as they passed it to each other, all the while trying to figure out what it could possibly be.

"Poke people with it?" Scott questioned poking Isaac in the side with it. The gift shop lady frowned at them deeply when she saw that they were handling it trying to figure out what it could possibly be. The lady mumbled something under her breath that only Peter seemed to hear though he smirked all the same.

"It's a magnet," he explained reaching past them to grab a couple. He then showed them that they stuck to each other and forced the other apart with the sides clashed, the three of them all gave him a fake enthusiastic expression.

"Why is it a stick?" Scott wondered placing it back into its bin loathingly. Couldn't pieces of art be simple? Did they always have to be so weird that no one knew what was going on?

"I thought it was a chopstick," Isaac confessed with a shrug.

"So cool," Marlow said sarcastically while turning away from him blandly to stare at something else. Isaac gave him a sly look that made Peter give him a dark glare in return, this kid was far took cheeky as much as Peter could tell, the whole time they had been there he stuck to Marlow like a tyke. He was almost certain it was just to piss him off, if the kid wasn't under Derek's protection Peter would like to rip into him briefly.

"This thing is scary looking," Scott muttered making Marlow wander over to him. It was a small pin with a sculpted face of a baby smiling a little too much; it caused Scott to cringe as he dropped the thing in Marlow's outstretched hands.

"I like it, just to scare people by using it would be fun," she said sticking her tongue out at him for a moment. "Like dude, there's a baby on your shoulder, god, look at the way it smiles," she said in a grave voice.

Scott gave her an incredulous face while Peter merely smirked, he was used to most of her comments by now and they did nothing but make him smile. She was weird and he liked it. The way she spoke was very blunt and sometimes morbid or crude, though she said it with a smile on her face. He liked the way her voice changed according to what she was saying, whether or not it was a joke, she was angry, or if she was telling a story.

"But it is a little bit creepy and I'm not sure I would want to own it," she muttered placing it back into its bin. There were at least eight other smiling baby faces in the container making Marlow think of it as a garden of severed baby heads, which wasn't a very lovely thought and she quickly walked away from such things.

"So you're saying it scares you?" Peter asked with a malicious grin while walking over to them. Scott and Isaac were looking at something else in the store leaving the two of them alone with the decapitated heads.

"What's with that evil smirk?" She frowned at him already knowing what he was getting at. "If I find that baby in my bag later, you're going to pay," she hissed walking over to him with a threatening look on her face.

"Will I?" He questioned picking up one of them to stare at. She growled lowly before taking the baby from his hand and putting it away she sighed exasperated when he simply grabbed another one.

"No," she stated pointing her finger at him before walking away.

Walking out of the gift shop Marlow decided that the best thing to follow a visit to the museum was some food, so they walked down to her favorite bakery. It smelled sweet when they walked into the small shop, a man grinned and waved at Marlow before teasing her for coming so often. Peter was almost a little jealous that she spoke with other people, especially men, so easily; couldn't she only open up to him? Was that too much to ask for?

After asking everyone what they wanted, ignoring their pleas to help pay for whatever they were going to get Marlow walked up to the front, Peter had not stopped glaring at Scott since they got out of the museum. Isaac seemed pretty intent on joining the two adults where ever they went, and though Peter was ready to wolf out and kill them Marlow was happy to have more company that she could laugh with.

"If you don't leave I'm going to hurt you and your loved ones," he threatened making Isaac smirk.

Scott panicked slightly, swallowing quickly while glancing at the girl at the counter; he was starting to think she could become a friend. But if Peter was going to be there threatening his life the whole time they hung out maybe such a friendship wouldn't be a very good idea. Isaac was thinking very much the opposite; there was something about Marlow that was familiar to him, something in the way she behaved. He couldn't quite place it but the mere fact that they were similar made him want to get to know her more, plus he wanted to bug Peter as much as possible.

"Look at what we got her," Isaac smirked taking a postcard out of his pocket. Peter didn't want to smile at their idea of a gift for the girl, he hadn't wanted to spend any time with them for them to even get a chance, but it made him smile.

"I approve," he stated before replacing his amusement with a glare. "Put it in her bag and leave," he growled.

"Sorry Marlow, we have to get home," Scott called to her suddenly. A few other people in the store gave them a glance for being loud but otherwise didn't seem to care; Marlow gave them a dark expression when they stood to leave. She muttered something to the man behind the counter before turning back towards them warningly.

"Not yet," she called back to them angrily. In the next few moments she had a plate with two pastries on them and two small bags in her hands, she placed the plate on the table before handing the two teenagers a bag each. "Today was fun, maybe we can do it again sometime," she said cautiously.

"Uhm," Scott was at a loss for words as Peter stared them down venomously.

"Unless you think I'm too old and shouldn't hang out with you for that reason," she said in a fake hurt voice. "It's alright I understand," she whispered softly.

"No it was fun," Isaac assured her with a cheerful expression on his face. It was truth; it had been a fun twist to what he and Scott believed was going to be a boring day at an art museum.

"Cool," she grinned at them before they turned away. "See you later," she waved after them before turning back to Peter. He'd changed his countenance back to one of patience with an air of amusement that made Marlow stare at him suspiciously. "What?" She questioned giving him a curious gaze.

"Nothing," he assured her keeping the comical aura about himself.

"Uh huh," she muttered before sitting down and staring at him warily.

The rest of the time was spent lightly, talking about random topics such as their family, the food they liked, and books that sucked as movies. Peter told Marlow about his lack of family and watched as her face turned into one of understanding, not something that he had wanted to see cross her face. There was such a sadness in her eyes it looked like she was ready to cry, which earned him an angry glare from the man behind the counter. She didn't say she was sorry, but said that it was hard for people to understand what someone goes through at such times, that the only way to get past it is to live.

He left out the part about being in a coma for six years as it would probably greatly confuse her, but explained that he still had some family left, or at least one member that was his nephew whom he annoyed. She shared with him the death of her brother and what it did to her family, her eyes watered every so often as she spoke of such a topic, immediately Peter wanted to change the subject to see her smile again. Marlow was sure to keep the part about her father beating her to herself, she didn't need any attention for it, and it wouldn't do any good anyway.

At the mention of how Marlow had found the café she lit up as she told her tale of meeting Jackson, the man behind the counter, and how she always seemed to stumble into the little shop whenever she had free time. Jackson was happy to chime in whenever she got details wrong or over exaggerated, Peter was sure after spending time with Marlow that any story she told could become exciting the way she spoke and laughed.

They parted shortly after that, when Peter went to give her a small hug she allowed him, but only offered a one armed squeeze in return, she was probably used to people giving her half a hug. Peter was simply seeing when she would draw the line, at that point he would figure out a way to cross that line regardless of how she felt about it.

Marlow smiled as she walked back to her car with quick steps, she'd never been one to walk slowly unless the person next to her had a particularly lazy gait and was in her way. At which point she would wait for her opportunity to go past them before booking it around them and out of their way.

It had been a good day, the perfect way to spend time away from home and away from her father who would have undoubtedly spent most of the day sauntering past her threateningly. Though she'd probably have a few new bruises for being out so long tomorrow it didn't bother her as much as it probably should have. She'd had too much fun to think about what would happen once she got home, even with teenagers, whom she usually despised, there had been room for laughter and even new friendships.

Sneaking into the house without too much noise Marlow made it to her room, dropping her stuff on the bed she began taking out her sketchbook before feeling something at the bottom of her bag. Being a little wary of what might be inside she dumped the bag out instead of reaching inside it again.

A creepy baby face was peaking at her from underneath her sketchbook, it's smiling face almost mimicking the way Peter had grinned at her when she said that it was a little too creepy for her. Reaching to find her phone amongst the other things that had been in her bag she came across something that looked like a postcard, there was a number scrawled on the blank side with a name written rather quickly with a small note.

_You're pretty cool for an old lady._ It was signed by Isaac, the message made Marlow laugh before etching her face into a frown at the thought of a decapitated baby head on her bed. Flipping the postcard over Marlow's expression faltered and darkened considerably when she saw the picture that was on the other side. It was a photograph of the piece called 'Money' that Isaac had picked fun at her for, why anyone would pay for this was beyond her.

Laughing darkly Marlow pulled out her phone quickly before typing in the number and waiting for someone to pick it up on the other end. Her irritated rage fueled by the postcard in her hands that she felt the need to burn rather than keep as a souvenir.

"Hello?" Isaac picked up the phone warily.

"I hate you," she seethed into the phone with a dark smirk on her face.

"Oh, hi Marlow," he sounded cheerful. She could just imagine the smug smile on his features as he thought about how she had reacted to finding such an unwanted gift.

"You and Peter got me those things didn't you, that evil baby face and stupid penny picture," she snarled only earning a laugh from him.

"Peter got you the baby? That's awesome!" He cheered making Marlow glower down at the picture in her hands. "I guess old people can have a sense of humor as well," he commented.

"I'm not even that old, so stuff it," she murmured blandly. "Did you like the pasty?" She asked suddenly remembering that they had left before even sitting down to chat about the café.

"It almost fell apart in my mouth, but otherwise it was really good, thanks for that by the way," he replied. Marlow laughed softly when she imagined the teen biting into the flaky sweet and growling as it crumbled all over his shirt.

"I was going to laugh at you guys in the café but no, you had to leave. I hope you enjoyed your messy snack, maybe next time I'll buy you something that explodes," she said threateningly. His only response was a laugh before Marlow's attention was grabbed by loud stomping coming towards her room.

Ignoring anything Isaac was saying she walked over to the door carefully, holding the phone at her side to muffle it ever so slightly she brought it up to her lips for a second.

"Give me a minute," she said softly before muffling it with her fingers.

It was quiet while she waited for her father to say something, she could already smell the alcohol from the other side of the door, and his drinking couldn't be controlled on his days off. She'd tried many times to stop him when she was younger but nothing seemed to help, it always ending with a shouting battle and punches thrown. So she gave up and let the man drink away his sorrows and his anger.

"Marlow?" She could only faintly hear Isaac's voice as she strained her ears to listen for her father.

"Where have you been all day?" His voice wasn't too loud yet, but it still made Marlow's happiness sink, she already knew what was coming next.

"I had school work to do," she lied to him.

"You always have school work, don't lie to me," he seethed letting his hands fall onto the door with a shake.

"I'm not," she stated as if it was the truth.

"Open this door," his voice rose louder as he began to shout.

"Talk to you later," she muttered into the phone before clicking the end button.

Isaac heard her dismissal quickly before the line clicked off, he pulled out his phone to look at it for a moment in order to think about what he'd heard faintly from the other end. All at once Marlow's voice sounded stern and serious as opposed to her usually animated and joking tone, there was a silence from the other side that made him anxious.

A muffled angry voice made him uncomfortable before she hung up on him with a quick farewell; maybe she was late for something? Whatever it was that had happened he'd have to bug her about it the next day.

* * *

**AN: So there's that chapter, Isaac and Marlow are going to be friends, if you can't tell already. What do you think of the budding relationships? **

**This chapter isn't as long, but I didn't want to continue on after I'd already included everything I wanted to in this chapter, if you made it this far again thank you and don't forget to leave me some comments.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hey peoples! Sorry this took so long and all that, school started again and I have six classes this term, so writing and updating fanfitcions is kind of at the bottom of the list right now, although it is above math homework which is at the very bottom. **

**Thank you Chella, Nila, and Kiba for the reviews!**

**Remember how I said I don't like editing? Yeah, did not edit this chapter at all...Big apology for the mistakes that you find. I'll read through it and cringe later, but I want to get this up before I go to work, sorry.**

**I've realized that this story might not be too long, perhaps seven to ten chapters before it's completely finished. Mostly because if I have stories that go beyond that point I tend to lose interest and give up on them, so this one has a better chance of getting finished if I keep it short.**

**Anyway, enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

**.**

**Chapter Three**

**.**

"Someone doesn't know how to use chopsticks," Marlow teased the teenager next to her.

It had been two weeks since Marlow had met Isaac and Scott at the museum, since then she had met Stiles, Erica, Boyd, and Derek. She didn't know it but they were a pack and once Isaac had started talking about a new girl that Peter seemed to like the rest of them wanted to meet her. Derek didn't especially care but didn't mind when they ran into each other by accident.

Everyone seemed to like her well enough to make fun of Peter whenever he _accidentally_ ran into her during the day and then reeked of her scent later. Erica was ecstatic for there being another girl, making friends with the older college student almost immediately; Boyd could only follow behind them. Marlow met Stiles by running into Scott; the teen was spastic and otherwise very entertaining, much like she was when she met new people. Of course they got along, though Stiles had to hold himself back a few times when he started trailing to more supernatural topics.

Peter was jealous to say the least, at first he was sure that Marlow was his own discovery that he could spend time investing into and working out all the details. Eventually his plan was to run his hands all along her skin and bury his nose in her neck to take in the scent that the pack had all grown accustomed to. Minus Stiles who couldn't tell the difference between different people to begin with, him and his puny human nose. He didn't think it was fair that he was the one who found her in the first place and now he was sharing her with everyone. Even Derek who cared little to nothing about Peter or the other's friends didn't put up a fight when Erica insisted Marlow go shopping with them.

The happiest of all of them was Marlow, it was the first time in a while that she felt so welcome in a place that was so strange to her. She'd have never imagined that Peter knew so many kind and warm people who didn't hesitate to include her into their lives, asking if she wanted to hang out or simply calling her because they were bored. Which mostly ended up being Erica, she had explained to Marlow that it was hard for her to make friends of the same gender as her.

It didn't matter anymore that when she got home her father was waiting to throw her into walls until he broke down from the guilt with shaking blood splattered hands. That even if he said he was sorry one night and the next he went back to beating her she didn't care, not when there were such warm people waiting for outside such a house. She was even to the point of forgiving her father every time he apologized to her; life was finally starting to get better for her. Maybe when her mother finally passed on her plans would change now that there were people who had changed her.

At the moment Marlow, Isaac, Erica, Stiles, and Scott were sitting in a local Chinese restaurant slurping away at egg drop soup and laughing as Scott failed to use two sticks.

"Oh because it's such an important skill," Scott muttered stabbing a piece of chicken with one stick.

"What if you go to China and there aren't any forks or spoons anywhere?" Erica asked with a smug expression on her face. "What are you going to do when all they give you are chopsticks?"

Scott gave her an exasperated glance before looking to Stiles for help to see that he was using his chopsticks perfectly fine. He grinned sheepishly at his friend before shoving a vegetable into his mouth.

"At that point I'd just use my hand," he replied with a snide tone. "Okay, please, can I just grab a fork from that table? It had five and there are only four chairs, they don't need five," he muttered glancing over at the table next to them.

"Does that mean you give up?" Isaac asked from across the table.

"First person to give up has to pay," Marlow reminded him with a grin. Scott groaned before going back to his plate with a bitter look on his face. "Just follow Isaac example," she laughed as the other teen brought his plate up to his face. Isaac's technique included moving everything to one side of the plate before bringing it up to his mouth and shoveling it in as best as he could.

"He's getting food everywhere," Scott complained motioning towards the rice covered table.

"Yes I am," he smiled wiping smudges of sauce off his face. They laughed about it for a while longer before Marlow and Erica started slicking pieces of rice at the other boys around the table. Eventually Stiles joined in and launched a pea across the table; it flew off the table and almost hit another costumer in the back of the head.

The teens found out pretty early on that whenever Marlow spoke of her days in high school there was always a funny story that came with it. In which case they tried to get her back on the topic of school whenever they had the chance. Since meeting Marlow they'd heard about the time she was in marching band in high school and got hit in the face after getting past the point of being too tired to fall asleep. They'd heard about how she and her friend tripped down the stairs and tackled one of their teachers, only to realize that they didn't have their hall pass so they got detention.

"Speaking of messes," she started with a smug grin on her face as she recalled the memory. "One time when I was in art class," she faded off trying to remember what grade she had been in.

"Another high school story?" Erica asked rather excited.

"Is it that obvious?" Marlow asked glancing at Isaac for confirmation.

"We like your stories, they're always funny," Scott murmured a little shyly. Sometimes the pack got a little shy around Marlow, mostly to the fact that they were nervous around her. Everyone liked her so far, Peter liked her a little too much, she was perhaps the first human in a while, since Stiles anyway, that had gotten in so well with the pack. The thing that made them so nervous was that she didn't know about what they were, when she laughed and told them stories they forgot about being afraid anyone would find out.

Everything that had happened with Jackson and Peter coming back to life, all the fear and drama that came with just being a werewolf didn't seem to matter when they were with Marlow. It was almost as if her clean and fresh scent just washed everything negative out of their minds, this was why Peter liked her so much. It almost made them a little angry how he always wanted to keep the girl for himself, couldn't he share her?

"Well," she started glancing around at all of them in suspense. "I don't remember what the assignment was, way too long ago," she huffed letting her eyes widen slightly.

"Old," Stiles muttered in between coughs. Erica turned to him quickly, giving the boy a hard stare that Marlow backed up with a pissed off expression on her face, narrowing her eyes darkly the boys next to them barely contained their smirks.

"I'll punch him for you," Erica said raising her fist threateningly. Stiles feigned an anxious fear before stifling a laugh, sometimes Erica could get a little extreme, but he knew that Marlow wasn't one to hurt others.

"I'll get him later," she assured her with a nod. "Anyway," she glanced at him angrily. "I was trying to get some paint out of a bottle; it must have been at the bottom because that green slimy crap was not moving at all. Now if I had been a patient teenager with experience I might not have been as stupid as I was in the next few seconds of my life."

"What did you do?" Stiles asked trying to work out what could have occurred next in his head.

"Without too much thought I closed the bottle of paint and started to bang the top of it against the table, I didn't think I was using all that much force but," she paused for dramatic effect. "It splattered across the table and all over my teacher's shirt as she walked by," she said with a grimace on her face.

There was a sputtering of laughs all around her as the teens tried to imagine the scene happening in their own minds, Stiles could see it happening for him without much surprise. Erica and Scott burst into their own fits of laughter as they pictured a younger Marlow sitting at the end of a massacre of green paint in front of a furious teacher.

"She was not happy," Marlow chuckled at her own story. "That's why she laughed at me when I burnt myself on an iron," her voice grew grim. Isaac couldn't help but laugh at how she got so into her stories that she changed her voice and expression to match, it was one of the things that made her so entertaining.

"You burnt yourself on an iron?" Stiles questioned with a dismal look.

"Didn't know it was there," she shook her head with an indifferent expression. "Wrote a very misleading slam poem about it, my teacher loved it," she muttered catching all of them off guard.

"You write poetry?" Erica asked curiously.

"Slam," she corrected. "It's a bit different when compared with traditional stuff like," she paused for a second before continuing. "_No longer white but red, just as they said, the body will move, but the heart is dead_. Something that rhymes, aaba. Slam is more free verse and some people get really into it, some of them can be very intense," she said shaking her head slightly. "But no, I don't anymore."

"Why not?" Scott piped up.

"I wasn't very good," she laughed at herself shortly. "Every time I tried to be serious it came out more comical and my friends always seemed to laugh at me, I was never all that serious in high school. I think I wrote one about rock candy once," she murmured glancing off in a random direction. "It was terrible."

"Aww, I want to hear one," Erica complained in a whiny voice.

"What happened to all your high school friends?" Isaac questioned her. It was something that he was always curious about whenever she spoke so fondly of her four years of life within such a place as that, it was the same thing they were living through at the moment. There was a happiness in her voice that seemed to be hiding something underneath, and he wanted to figure out what it was.

"I tried to keep in contact with them but, I don't know," she scoffed leaning back in her seat. "None of them seemed to care."

"That sucks," Stiles said under his breath.

"Nah," she shrugged it off easily enough. "I made new friends, and now I know you babies, that has to be good for something right?" She said with a smile towards all of them.

Everyone smiled back at her though all the wolves at the table were pretty much thinking the same thing, if they knew who her friends had been it'd be easy to pay them a visit. Obviously it had left some kind of mark on her because as soon as Isaac mention the topic her heart beat had jumped for a moment before getting back under control. They'd hurt her.

"Hah, babies," Stiles huffed. Marlow gave her a knowing expression that he replied to by sticking his tongue out at her.

=0=0=

As soon as Marlow got home her dad was sure to tell her how he felt about her new friends, he didn't like the fact that his daughter was running around with a bunch of teenagers who probably didn't even like her. He assured her that they were just using her because she was older and she had money, in other words they didn't like her at all.

She didn't like the way he was speaking about them but tried to ignore it as she walked ever so slowly towards her room, it was a Friday night and she had been hoping her father would either not be home or would have passed out by now. But she was not so lucky as to find him asleep on the couch and be able to sneak by to get to her room.

A hand on her wrist stopped Marlow as her father tugged her backwards until her back bashed into the corner of the counter in the kitchen, her room was only about twenty feet away, and she'd almost made it.

"Listen to your father when he's peaking to you," he spat glaring down at her drunkenly. When she didn't respond he frowned bitterly before bending her arm behind her back and forcing it into an awkward angle painfully. Marlow whimpered at the stabbing agony that emanated from her wrist as he continued to bend it, she pulled at it uselessly before he finally let out a chuckle and released her. She backed away from him quickly until her back hit the wall of the kitchen closest to her room; her arm throbbed whenever she put weight on it. Her father sneered as he grabbed at his half empty beer bottle that was on the counter, after everything that her father had said about the teens the only thing left in Marlow's mind was.

"They're my friends," she muttered softly making him jerk his head back towards her.

"What did you say?" He snapped with a snarl. She stared up at him defiantly holding her injured arm to her chest as he clenched onto his bottle tight enough for parts of his hand to turn white.

Her expression was hard as she glared at him accusingly; it was the first time in a long time that Marlow had someone she could hang out with and laugh with. She could tell them stories about when she was younger and how stupid she had been without having to worry about if they thought she was being immature. When she was with them she forgot about having to go home to her father, and even when she did it didn't bother her as much because she knew that the next day there would be something to look forward to.

Suddenly there was a bottle flying at her making Marlow gasp as she barely moved out of the way before the beer smashed against the wall and threw glass everywhere. Pieces of it cut through her skin letting small beads of blood break out against her pale skin as she stared painfully up at her father.

"After what happened to Carson you don't deserve to have friends, you deserve to be miserable like me," he shouted fumbling to reach out and grab another bottle.

Marlow flinched when she saw what he was grabbing at before trying to get away from what was coming next. Another bottle smashed next to her head and launched glass in ever which direction as she did her best to cover her face from any pieces trying to cut into it again. Her father was frantic now, he'd never thrown bottles at her before, needless to say she was more than scared now, what if one of them hit her?

"How can you still smile after he died?" He yelled at her painfully. She could see the heart broken expression on his face, it still killed him that his little boy had died, and that the son he had always wanted was no longer in this world. "How can you just forget about him?" He questioned loudly.

His voice was starting to get raspy as his hand closed around another bottle and chucked it at his daughter. Marlow whimpered and covered her face once again as the bottle soared towards her, this time it shattered above her head, thin lines of beer trailed down the wall towards her as glass rained down upon her skin and hair.

"You should have died instead!" He whimpered taking a step away from her.

"I know!" She screamed back at him. Her father gave her a crestfallen expression as he took in the sight of her; it was almost every night that they had this conversation. If only she had died instead, why did she have to live when Carson was so much better? Couldn't God bring his son back?

Before Marlow had left for college to get away from her father he was beating her every day, whenever she was in the house and he was feeling sorry for himself he would scream and throw her around. She noticed that he would only get worse and worse as the days went on, that she had to escape before he ended up killing her. So she had left, and her father somewhat went back to normal, it was only when she returned to care for her mother that he went back to his old ways. Every night she stayed in this house it got worse, perhaps tomorrow night he wouldn't miss.

Scrambling to her feet Marlow kept her eyes on her father until she was sure that he wouldn't follow her and ran to her room, it seemed like he was done for the night and would leave her be. Closing the door to her room slowly Marlow sighed shakily before letting tears flow down her cheeks, she choked back a few sobs while sliding against the door and onto the ground.

It was times like these that she wished she had a friend who knew what was happening at home, someone who would rush over and make sure she was okay all the while holding her close so she could cry. But there was no one like that for her and there never would be, she couldn't get anyone else involved with this, it was her own problem that no one else should have to deal with.

Feeling her phone vibrate in her pocket Marlow thanked god for a moment, if her cell had gone off during the time her father was yelling at her it would have been even worse. Pulling pout the device Marlow almost smiled when she saw who it was that had texted her, Peter.

_I can't believe you went out to eat without me, consider me angry_. He wrote.

She smiled faintly at his text, immediately her mind buzzed with wanting to reply to him, even in the condition that she was in at the moment she laughed as she imagined his expression. Sniffling softly she wiped some tears off her face before almost jumping when she saw blood on her fingertips, she'd have to take a shower or two.

_Jealous much?_ She sent back to him.

She smirked at the response that she was giving him, for some reason whenever Erica, Isaac, Boyd, or Derek mentioned that Peter might be jealous or envious of something he was really defensive. He wasn't jealous, as he explained, he only wanted to share in the experience and though it was unfair that he be left out.

_No, but I'm going to have to kidnap you and take you to a movie on Sunday._ Was his reply. Marlow let her mouth gape as she stared at her screen, her wrist ached ash she held her fingers over the small keyboard hesitantly. She was more than happy that someone wanted to hang out with her and that he even wanted to take her to a movie. She'd have to make sure to tease him about it later.

_I'll only go if you admit that you're jealous of my awesome friendship with the teenagers_. She wrote with a smirk on her features as she got up and walked towards the bathroom to clean and recuperate.

It was amazing how a simple text conversation could brighten her spirits so completely in only a few minutes. At the moment it didn't matter that her father had just gone crazy and thrown glass bottles at her that exploded against the wall and cut into her skin. It didn't matter that he had shouted and screamed at her that he wished she was dead instead of his son and her brother. All that mattered was that Marlow had people who wanted to spend time with her, even if they didn't stick around very long or want to hang out with her in a few months. If she was only going to have them for ninety days, it was going to be the best ninety days of her life, and then she always had a plan to go back to.

_Maybe a little. _She laughed at his reply.

=0=0=

After eating Chinese food with Marlow and some of the pack Erica and Isaac had gone back to Derek's house, it's pretty much where they were staying. Sometimes Derek made them train as a condition of living with him but it didn't really bother them all that much anymore, not that they had gotten any better at fighting against him but. At least they didn't get destroyed anymore.

There was still something about Marlow that bugged Isaac; something that he couldn't quite place about her that he felt was all too familiar to him. It pissed him off, in the short two weeks that she had been introduced to the pack he already felt like he had to protect the young adult. Even if she was older than him and picked on him every chance she got there was something that screamed out to him about her. It made him anxious that he didn't know what it was.

Although he was sure Peter cared about her the most he was sure that the feeling wasn't shared amongst the rest of the wolves in the pack. It was something about the way she smiled and the expression in her eyes when she spoke about her family, the ever present indifferent look in her eyes. Something was being hidden.

The next morning he went for a jog in the woods to clear his mind, Erica questioned him only for a moment before wandering back to her room still half asleep. It always took her forever to wake up in the morning. His jog very quickly turned into a full out sprint as he shifted forms for a moment before catching onto a familiar scent as he ran by.

It was clean and refreshing to sniff so early in the morning and he was sure that his nose was betraying him, why would Marlow be in the forest so early in the morning?

But sure enough she was there, sitting on a log with a skinny easel in front of her where she was sketching faint forms of the trees in front of her before going back and adding detail. The smell of charcoal entered his nose and he almost wanted to chuckle at her, there was always something about her that smelled artsy.

Erica had explained that if Marlow didn't smell like paint or charcoal that something was wrong because it mean that she would be in a bad mood. Which proved to be true when she lost her sketchbook for a day and almost threw a spoon at Stiles when he tried to tease her, they learned to not mess with her when she was angry. Though Peter seemed to have learned how to calm her down and made sure to rub that fact in their faces.

Walking up behind her silently Isaac watched her hand move across the paper smoothly, fast at first before slowing down and working on certain areas more intricately as she added bark to some areas of the trees. He'd yet to see her draw or work on anything related to what she claimed was part of her life and couldn't quite get over the clearness that was her eyes. No walls or hidden emotions were hiding in there right now, just the determination to do the best she could with the talent that she had.

The other hand that was not drawing smudged a few areas as she shaded and blended with her fingertips before scratching her arm without thinking about it. Isaac's eyes followed the movement making him realize that she wasn't wearing long sleeves, probably the first time he had seen her without sleeves on her arms and the sight scared him.

Deep bruises tainted her pale skin, the nasty yellow and purpling skin was a noticeable difference when she wasn't covering it with her jackets or sweaters. Looking at her arms further Isaac was sure he could see small cuts all over her arms and shoulders, he didn't know what to look at until finally he focused on another nasty bruise on her wrist. It looked like someone had tied her up or gripped her so tightly it caused her skin to bruise.

All at once everything made sense. Marlow always wore long sleeves so she could hide her bruises and wounds, when she spoke about her family and she smiled she was doing her best to be strong and not show weakness. The familiarity that he felt towards her was because he had been through the same thing, the façade that everything was okay when really it was so far from being alright.

Marlow had explained that her brother died when she was in high school and that her father had never been the same after that. She didn't know if he had gotten any better because after she graduated she left home and moved away to go to college in a different state. When they had asked her why she didn't say she said it was because home reminded her of her brother and she wanted to start anew.

Now Isaac was sure of the truth so much that it made him bitter and angry at the realization of everything that he hadn't caught in the past two weeks that he had known her.

When her brother died her father most likely blamed her, and when she graduated from high school she moved away to get away from him. Her father probably wasted no time and energy beating lie after lie into her, shouting at her, and screaming at her all the while throwing her into the floor. Much like his own father had, he could just imagine Marlow cowering beneath the larger form of her father as he raised his hand against her. Just the image in his head made Isaac grit his teeth as he tried to control himself.

Now that his daughter was back in town Marlow's father had gone back to the way it had been before, beating his own daughter but making sure that in the end nothing would come back to him. Making sure that she would be able to hide it. At first Isaac had a fleeting question of why Marlow didn't just leave, but then he remembered what she had said about her mother, that she wasn't going to get better.

Feeling words bubble at his lips Isaac strode forwards towards the still seated girl in front of him, perhaps she really was as clumsy as she said she was. If this was all because Marlow frequently fell down the stairs he would feel a lot better about everything, but in the end his mind was just making up excuses.

Having been so absorbed in her drawing Marlow hadn't noticed Isaac behind her, especially with his werewolf quietness which she didn't know that he possessed. She'd woken way too early that morning and decided it was a nice morning to go draw in the woods, especially since she wanted to be as far away from her father as possible. Certainly when her mother woke up she would go straight to Marlow's room and try to treat her wounds all the while insisting that she leave and go home already.

Marlow didn't want that, she was going to take care of her mother until the end, not leave her like she had before. It would be folly of her to say that Marlow wasn't sore from the night before; the small cuts from smashed bottle had already scabbed over, though her wrist was terribly bruised, nothing a jacket wouldn't conceal. It was only when she started drawing that the scabs rubbing against the fabric of the sleeves bothered her enough to remove the unwanted material from her skin, no one would be around so early that would see her bruises anyway. And if someone did happen by they certainly wouldn't know her.

"Where did you get those bruises?" A voice startled her out of her thoughts enough for her to drop her charcoal. Turning her head sharply she saw Isaac walking up behind her with a grim expression on his face, Marlow didn't let her panic show as his question sank in.

"Oh, didn't expect to see anyone I knew this morning. How are you?" She tried to avoid the question while reaching for her jacket.

"Did you get them from your father?" He asked bitterly. Marlow could have sworn that his eyes flashed gold for a moment but the wonder was overtaken by her immediate need to deny what he was implying.

"What?" She gawked at him as if it was an outrageous question. In all reality her heart was beating wildly as she tried to think of a really good lie while pulling her arms back into her jacket. "He would never," she faked anger at him.

"I know you're lying, you don't have to," he assured her gently. Marlow flinched away from him as if he had reached for her, gathering her stuff together she stuffed everything away before reaching for the easel when Isaac stepped in front of her.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she growled darkly. "Leave it alone," she whimpered under her breath. Marlow didn't know that Isaac had heard the comment and it made him frown deeply, he knew exactly what she was going though because he had already been through it.

"Marlow," he tried to talk to her but she would have none of it.

How could she have been so stupid to let someone find out, especially Isaac, he was still just a teenager and she'd let him get involved with something like this. It was frustrating and she couldn't help but let angry tears fall down her cheeks, though she turned away from him quickly to pick up her easel and start walking away. The only time anyone had ever known about what happened at home had been in high school, and she'd rather not have a repeat of how quickly her friends pulled away from her. She'd told her best friend that sometimes her father would beat her, but it didn't matter because he was just working through his pain. Her friend saw that as a good opportunity to call the cops, which was a good move but Marlow's father had been ready for that and put up a good front. Marlow even lied to protect her father, it was something her friend couldn't understand, and even when her father beat her she could tell that somewhere inside his mind he loved her. And even if he didn't, even if he was beating her out of hatred, it was something she deserved because she had lived instead of Carson.

It hurt her more than anything had ever wounded her before, every time he raised his hand against her a little piece of her heart broke away, where was the father that carried her to bed when she fell asleep. Or threatened her boyfriends when she invited them over to make sure that they didn't break his little girl's heart? Over all the years that he wailed on her that was what hurt her most of all, that the father she loved was gone, and all he left behind was a monster with his face.

"Please, just leave it alone," she tried to keep her voice clear but there was an obvious shake.

Isaac could smell the saltiness of tears as they flowed down her cheeks; he heard how weak her voice sounded as she tried to pretend that everything was okay. For a few moments as she trudged away from him Isaac fumbled with his words, how could he get through to someone who wanted to be left alone?

"When my father was angry with me," he spoke about it as if it was nothing but it still hurt. "He would lock me in a broken freezer in the basement," he made sure his voice reached her.

Stopping herself short Marlow breathed in shortly before turning to look at Isaac in a jerky movement; dropping her stuff onto the leaf strewn ground she put her hand over her mouth painfully. Her eyes twisted and flashed through many different emotions, pain, pity, worry, understanding, agony, sadness, misery, and finally it stopped on a fearful shaking face.

"Isaac," she sputtered in front of him and he had to remind himself that this was the same girl that was always smiling. It was weird to see her so vulnerable and weak in front of him, it made his blood boil as he imagined his own father throwing her in the freezer and closing the lid, he'd have killed him if he was still alive. "I'm so sorry," she whispered moving her hands up to her eyes. She wiped away her tears quickly with a snuffle before more slid down the same paths.

"He's gone now, so I'm okay," he said while walking towards her slowly.

"No you aren't," she murmured falling to her knees in front of him. "It still hurts you, even if it isn't physical, it always hurts even when they aren't near," she blubbered shakily. "I'm sorry, I wish I could take that pain away, you don't deserve it." What she said made him angry and he was suddenly in front of her.

"Why do you think you deserve it?" His voice was sharp and angry. "Neither of us deserved this," he started to raise his voice and she flinched away from him. Isaac had to ignore the hurt that flooded in his veins before he reminded himself that her father had probably shouted at her the night before.

"If I," she started to speak before Isaac cut her off.

"No, I don't want to hear it, you should call the police on him the next time he tries to hit you," he said bitterly. Even though Isaac had never done it when his father was alive he felt like Sheriff Stilinski would be able to help her, now that he knew who was going to show up after a 911 call he was sure that Stiles dad would be able to help her.

"We both know that I won't," she said gravely as he kneeled down next to her.

"At least call me then," he spoke without thinking about it. For a moment her expression changed to one of shock, her eyes widened before they softened and she gave him a kind smile.

"Oh Isaac," her voice was kind and wispy when she said his name. "Thank you," he almost smiled in relief before she frowned gently. "But we both know that I won't," her response made him angry as he growled at her now.

Pulling her into him Isaac wrapped his arms around her tightly, she was shaking like a leaf in the wind against him and he felt an indescribable urge to run to her house and tear her father apart. The fact that he would make his daughter cry like this, that he would raise his hand against her made him sick to his stomach. Why didn't anyone help her in high school? Didn't her friends notice that she came to class with new bruises every day? Did they not see how she changed right before their eyes when she spoke about certain things? Why had they been so blind?

"Then I'll come to you," he whispered into her ear softly. The whole situation made Isaac think about what the girl really meant to him, it was like she had been his older sister, as if his father was still alive and he was taking it out on her instead of him. If only Isaac could switch places with her, where she wore the traces of a beating for days it would erase from him immediately and no one would ever worry about him.

"No," she muttered shortly pushing against him. "Please don't," she said fiercely.

"Then Peter," Isaac started to explain that Peter would certainly never let anything happen to her but she stopped him quickly.

"Isaac no!" She said sternly against him as she pushed harder. He pulled back a little to look at her face as she glared at the ground without looking at his face, finally she turned up to look in his eyes defiantly but pleadingly. "You can't tell anyone about this," her voice was strong.

"Marlow you can't just," she cut him off again.

"No! No one can know, it's bad enough that you know," her voice started to crack and waver again. "To burden you with something like this, I never meant to tell anyone again," she pushed away from him completely and moved to collect her things slowly.

"What do you mean again?" He asked catching her last word.

"Just leave it alone Isaac. Please don't tell anyone," she shook her head bitterly as she stared at him. He stared back at her painfully, how could he know that this was happening and not do anything to help her? It was almost like she was torturing herself right in front of him and yet he was chained to the wall unable to help her.

"Marlow," he said her name softly.

"Promise me you won't tell anyone," she demanded of him when he tried to get around such a request. "Please Isaac, no one can know."

"I promise," his words were bitter even as they left his mouth.

After grabbing hold of her easel again Marlow leaned forward and pecked Isaac on the cheek softly, whispering a soft thank you into his ear before getting up in front of him and nodding before walking away. Her lips had been warm on his cheek; Isaac couldn't help but crumble into himself, even though he knew about her secret he was still worthless to her.

Angry at himself he shifted forms and rushed back to Derek's house quickly, rushing past a still sleeping Erica on the couch before slammed his door closed and howling in frustration. In a few moments the door opened to reveal the man of the house himself, he looked irritated if not a little curious as to what had made Isaac snap.

"What's wrong?" He asked in a stern but demanding voice, his eyes flashed red for a moment to quiet Isaac's raging temper.

This was his chance, if he told Derek certainly the Alpha would know what to do, and he would definitely want to protect Marlow who already knew everyone in the pack so well. Surely he would want to rush over and rip her father to shreds just like Isaac did, he would agree with him wouldn't he? Isaac had to stop himself short, if he broke Marlow's promise se probably wouldn't want to talk to him anymore.

"It's nothing," he muttered calming down instantly. Derek shrugged and walked away, it was obvious that the beta was lying, but if it was really urgent Derek would be able to tell.

"Stop being so loud then," was his reply.

"Sorry," Isaac muttered blandly. It was both an apology to Derek and Marlow, for not being able to help either of them by telling the truth to someone else.

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**AN: What did you think? There really wasn't too much Peter in this chapter was there? Sorry about that, next chapter will be pretty much all him. This chapter had the purpose of Isaac finding out about what goes on at home and why everything felt so comfortable with Marlow.**

**None of you have any idea what I'm going to do with this story and I love it! O_O  
Don't forget to leave me a review to tell me what you thought, remember that if you want this to be updated reviewing is the best way because it makes me think about it more.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Hey, what's up?!**

**Oh goodness, thank you so much for all the reviews! Kira, Nila, Milu, Drae, happ, and Guests x3.  
Yes Milu I follow you around and put you in my stories...But not really.  
You guys totally win the reviews contest, keep it up!**

**Again, I did not edit because I'm too lazy and wanted to get this online already. I did scan through to make sure that it all flowed together somewhat, but I apologize for grammatical issues and other mistakes.**

**School sucks, my online classes have too much homework and I don;t have time to care about ionic and covalent bonds when all I want to do is write the next chapter of my tw story. Hopefully you like this chapter, I'm still trying to think of what happens in the last few chapters, creating new peoples and whatnot.**

**Enjoy.**

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**Chapter Four**

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Pulling up to Marlow's parents house Peter almost felt anxious at what was about to take place that evening, it was safe to say that he hadn't been this excited for something for a long time. He was just happy that Marlow would finally be his for the night, and not surrounded by the rest of the cubs in the pack. There was no shame in the way they were intent of rubbing off their own scent on her and taking hers as well, it seemed that everyone wanted to smell fresh. But not it was his turn, they were going to watch a movie, eat dinner, and maybe go back to his place, though he knew with Marlow that would be a stretch.

Parking in the driveway Peter noticed that her father's car was in the driveway, she had explained that the only way she would be able to go with him was if her father had the night off. She huffed over the phone and said that Peter was very lucky because he did indeed have the allotted time free to watch over his wife.

Slowly and then quickly he got out of the car and made his way to the front door, wondering if Marlow was ready yet or if she was going to be a classic woman and take twenty minutes while he waited by the stairs. Though in a way if she did take longer to get ready it would give him time to snoop around her house and figure out more about her, perhaps even meet her parents. He almost felt a little nervous going up to the door, which made him stop short mid stride up the walkway. Since when did he get nervous over a girl?

Hardening his eyes and letting his ever present smirk fall onto his face Peter strode forward once more, this time only stopping short when the door in front of him became an obstacle. Glancing around he saw no doorbell and instead raised his fist to knock loudly on the door, if Marlow was in the bathroom he wanted her to hear him. Right before his knuckles were able to rack against the door someone pulled it open from the inside, person in question gave him an embarrassed smile that blew him away.

There in front of him was Marlow wearing a creamy colored skirt that went down to just above her knees with black stockings and cute white flats. As his eyes progressed further he saw that she had on a soft pastel blue tank top with a white cardigan overtop of it, she even wore a small white bow in her black hair. Peter didn't know what to say, he'd only ever seen the girl wearing some sort of legging, pants, jeans, and a sweater of some sort, sometimes with different hairstyles, but this was something else entirely.

"Hi," she greeted him softly. Her eyes caught his for a brief moment before she cast her gaze towards the ground shyly, her cheeks reddened and burned as she tried to push away the thoughts of how foolish she must look.

"Hi," Peter said back to her dumbly. Immediately his mind screamed at him for sounding so dull, could he really think of nothing better than to mirror what she had just said?

But he felt like a teenager again, getting nervous when he was trying to act cool in front of the girl he liked, feeling shocked when he realized how lucky he was to be going out with such a girl. The way she blushed and looked away from him made his heart ache at how cute she was being at the moment. Loud, obnoxious, strange, charcoal covered Marlow had dressed up to go out to a movie with him, she was standing in front of him and looking away from embarrassment for wearing such clothing for him, for him!

Forget the movie and dinner plans he wanted to take her home and watch her cheeks blaze a fiery crimson as he kissed her neck and held her close. What new surprises would she have in store for him when she was aware of how he felt about her?

"My mom insisted that I dress nicely since a man is taking me to a movie," she mumbled lifting her eyes to him slowly. "I think this is the only skirt I own," she laughed nervously at his silence.

When she had been in middle school her clothes were more comfortable and big on her, she didn't want to care what others thought of her but in the end it didn't matter. First of all middle school had been hard on her because she was bullied, and secondly because that age just sucked in general. If she dressed up nice and someone laughed at her it made her depressed and angry for being so weak, especially when she had to go home to her father. The one time she had actually worn a skirt it had been good to feel feminine and pretty for a little while, but then one of her friends had commented on how she looked.

_Skirts don't look good you._

He'd said a bit more about it but that was all Marlow needed to not wear them again for a very long time, there was no need for her to wear them if they made her look bad. Because she was always looking for people to accept her for who she was and who would accept her if she looked awful?

Even though it had been so long ago that such a comment was thrown at her it was still something that she held in her heart, every time she dressed up and looked at herself in the mirror it echoed in her mind.

That doesn't suit you, is what she told herself.

But she wanted to look nice tonight, even though she couldn't wear short sleeves or show off her legs because of the bruises she could still do it. She'd never really had sisters to tell her what matched and what didn't so really Marlow was just hoping that Peter wouldn't laugh at her, because if he did she probably wouldn't want to dress up ever again. He was silent in front of her and she was sure that he hated it, perhaps he was holding back a snort and that was why he was so quiet.

"I can go change if-," she started to speak quickly before he cut her off.

"No, don't," he took a step towards her.

She gave him a wary look that made him smile even bigger; even though she was uncomfortable she had dressed up for him. He could tell that this wasn't something she was used to, her hand fell away from the doorknob slowly as she let her gaze drift from his again. She was so nervous it made him want to kiss her to rid her of it, of course that would only make her even worse. But Peter was far from elated that Marlow only showed this side of herself to him, certainly none of the others had seen her in a skirt or blush this badly. Even he had not yet seen her look so nervous in front of him, usually she was so brash and impetuous that he envied her immaturity, but now she was innocent and cautious right before his eyes.

"You look cute," he said taking her hand softly. She closed the door behind them as he led her away; her lips formed a sort of pout when he said she was cute, as if she disliked his comment but wouldn't say anything about it. "What's wrong?" He asked when she continued to pout. "Don't like being called cute?" He questioned watched her face as she turned away from him.

"I don't think I am so," she trailed off when they got to his car. He let her get into the passenger seat without saying anything further but stopped right when he was about to close the door, she reached for it impatiently.

"You're adorable," he said simply before closing the door.

When he got in the car Marlow was staring at him with narrowed eyes and Peter was immediately reminded of why he liked Marlow so much, she was so unpredictable. Any other girl would melt in his hands with any compliment that he offered them; they would bat their eyes and thank him by pushing out their lips and breasts. At least these were the ones that Peter had the most luck with; he had great faith in his handsome mug, though it all seemed wasted on his current shotgun passenger.

She didn't care that he was good looking and often teased him about it when women gave him sultry glances from across the room. When people complimented her she returned the favor with a praise of her own or immediately tried to change the subject away from what she'd done, as if she was suddenly embarrassed to be in the spotlight. Even now when he said that she was cute and adorable there was no satisfaction in her reaction, nor any sign of shy content, instead she was glaring at him and all Peter could do was laugh.

"Can't you take a compliment?" He chuckled pulling away from her house. "I was just telling you the truth," he said softly. His comments seemed to catch her off guard as she stumbled with her words for a moment.

"Thank you," she finally spoke letting her ears burn.

"You're welcome," he replied earning another dark glance from her. By now he was just teasing her, something he loved doing whenever the conversation seemed to be taking a serious turn, sometimes she would blurt out things she normally wouldn't.

"I'm just not used to it," she defended herself before turning towards the window. "Still don't think I'm cute," she whispered under her breathe.

It was at moments like these that Peter loved his werewolf hearing because he could hear all the little comments that Marlow had to offer and she had a lot of them. The rest of the pack had noticed it as well and she almost never failed to say something funny or questionable, in the end they didn't tell her that they knew because then she would stop altogether and where was the fun in that?

"So what movie are we watching tonight?" She asked changing the topic away from herself.

Before even checking to see what movies were at the theater Peter knew which genre they were going to watch. Marlow had told him quite a few stories about how she would watch a movie with her older brother and then stay up all night imagining a creature thumping its way up the stairs and pounding on her door. It was always the cause of a horror movie that made her into a zombie the next day, after her brother died she didn't watch them anymore, partly because they scared the crap out of her and partly because she didn't have anyone to watch them with.

"I don't know what it's called," he said almost a little too innocently.

=0=0=

The rest of the night went by much too quickly when Peter looked back to it. The first thing they did was go out to dinner at a nice restaurant that Peter had never been to before; Marlow had heard nice things about it from her mother. They spoke lightly about their awkward years in school and why they were happy to be out of it, or almost out of it in Marlow's case. Peter considered himself the winner of the best story when Marlow laughed so hard she started choking on something that went down the wrong pipe.

Next was the horror movie which had been everything Peter had wanted it to be. According to him the movie was very cheesy, all the blood and dying looked okay but after seeing the real thing so often this was nothing. Marlow on the other hand, laughed at certain parts nervously, which made Peter grin at her uncertainty, oh how she wanted to prove to him that she wasn't frightened, but it was too much for her.

At one point during the movie she went quiet and even stopped breathing for a moment making Peter turn to her quickly. Her heart was thumping loudly in her chest while she stared wide eyed at the screen as if she had really seen someone just get murdered, she stayed like that for about three minutes at which point Peter burst out laughing simply from the expression she was making. It was an expression of pure terror, he was sure that she would have turned to look away but instead she continued to stare at it painfully.

"You're evil," she whispered to him. It just made him laugh all the more, whenever he closed his eyes she was next to him staring ahead of her with wide eyes and he just couldn't take it. He must have laughed about it for the rest of the night.

Peter couldn't help but watch closely during the ride back to her house, whenever something flashed outside the car she jerked her head in that direction and her heartbeat accelerated immensely. It made him smile and chuckle and she almost always turned around and glared at him darkly before sucking in a breath with a light blush on her face.

"You did this to me," she growled angrily.

For a second Peter had an evil passing thought that he turned down almost immediately before it wiggled its way back into his brain and made him smirk at the idea. Marlow didn't notice any difference in him until they stopped just outside the forest in the same parking lot that Peter had led her back to the first time they really spoke to each other so many days ago.

"Why are we here?" She questioned when he got out of the car and walked around to her side of the vehicle.

"I don't want to take you home just yet, so I thought we'd go on a walk," he explained with a happy grin on his face.

"In the dark?" She gawked at him. It was one thing to make her watch a horror film and laugh at her the whole time all the while expecting her to be able to go home and go to sleep but this was a different matter entirely. "In the forest, at night?" She questioned him further when all he did was nod his head like a child. "No," she turned away from him stubbornly.

With a smirk on his face Peter got out of the car and went over to her side, pulling the door open to see her pissed off face made him smile as the more. She reached for the door and began to pull it shut when Peter caught a hold of it and forced it open once again, Marlow slunk back into the car like an angry animal.

"Come on," he muttered reaching for her arm.

"No," she hissed at him. He stared at her for a moment before letting an amused expression fall onto his face, he'd heard her growl before when she was angry at something, but hissing was a new one. Immediately he was reminded of a cat, the way she was always so curious about new things and was easily angered was very similar to the feline creatures. "What if something happens?" Her voice was stern.

"Nothing's going to happen," he assured her. If anything jumped out at them Peter would simply flash his eyes at it and the animal would be scared away. In the end if it came down to something else being in the woods the worst case scenario was leaving Marlow alone for a few minutes while he tore into it in his werewolf form.

"How do you know?" She was suddenly very defensive towards him. Her eyes were scared and cautious as they switched from his form back out into the darkness behind him, her mouth a thin line of fright that he had not seen before.

"Marlow, I promise we'll be fine," he said seriously. If he had known that horror movies messed her up this badly he would have forced her to go to one a long time ago. "Please," he begged her with a pout on his face. This way whenever something snapped in the forest she would jump at him in a mad rush of fear, forcing her way into his arms just as he had wanted her to since he'd met her. "Don't be such a wimp," he murmured before walking away from her door.

"But I am a wimp," she muttered under her breath.

Glaring out after him she forced herself out of the car, closing it slowly she glanced around at the dark forest that loomed in front of her. The mood did little to light up the ground beneath her feet as Peter displayed his possession of a flashlight that he lovingly flashed at her face, blinding her for a few moments as she growled at him.

Peter couldn't help himself, with the way she was dressed and how she was acting he just wanted to hold the girl and take in her scent until he was sure it would linger in his nose for days. He wanted to feel her heartbeat wildly against his chest as her small hands clutched at his jacket while she tried to contain her fright at being in the forest at night. He wanted to be the one that she clung to when she was afraid, at the moment he was being very selfish but then again when had he ever cared?

"Just stay close and you'll be fine," he said it as if it was obvious. Marlow glowered at him before taking tentative steps after him into the forest, her whole form started to shake as Peter prided himself on a plan well done.

It wasn't long before Marlow reached out with a shaky hand and grabbed onto the sleeve of his jacket shyly, pinching it between her fingers as she looked this way and that in a flurry of fear. He would never understand why a lot of women were so afraid of the darkness around them; a dumb horror movie meant nothing to the real world when they were with a werewolf. Then again, most women didn't know a werewolf, but that was their loss. It hadn't even been five minutes when Marlow started to shake even more than she had before, the leave crunched under their shoes as the silence settled around them.

"Can we leave now?" She asked in a weak voice. "Please?" She reached down quickly and caught his hand. Peter had been waiting for something like that, the feeling of her hand in his was almost too much for him and immediately he wanted it to go further than that, perhaps he would get a kiss tonight if he played the right cards.

"Let me tie my shoe," he said with a heavy sigh, hiding a smirk behind his disappointed features. Marlow looked relieved, letting out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and glancing around at the trees anxiously. During the day she didn't mind being isolated and perhaps even lost in the woods, if she listened for cars or talking she could find her way back easily. But at night everything changed, it was the very reason she didn't go outside after dark or want to have anything to do with horror movies.

"Okay," she breathed faintly. It was too much to be here, her mind was starting to play tricks on her whenever she thought she saw a shadow, her vision would flicker for a moment before she reminded herself that she was okay. Everything was fine and soon she would be back in her bed where she could curl up into a ball and forget anything had ever happened to make her feel this way.

"Hold the flashlight for me," he mumbled before holding the light beam out for her to take. Before she could reach out to grab it he dropped it in front of her, there was the noise of it hitting the ground with a dull thud before the light turned off abruptly.

"Crap," Marlow whispered with a shiver in her voice.

Reaching down the grab it quickly she found that it was no longer there next to her feet, even as she got on her knees to search for it letting her hands fall on the crackling leave all around herself. It was gone, and so Marlow tried to reach out to Peter after feeling pure terror fall onto her heart when he was no longer there either, the space that he had been tying his shoe in front of her was empty. Her breath hitched in her throat as she stayed seated on the ground for a few moments before trying to convince herself that this was just a joke, Peter was trying to scare her.

"Peter, don't be a jerk," she muttered out into the darkness. But there was no reply and Marlow nearly choked when she tried to speak again and call out for him. "Peter?" She questioned the void in front of her with growing fear.

Hearing a soft noise off to her right Marlow froze and turned her head in that direction slowly, looking on in fear as she saw nothing looking back at her, but it was too late. Her mind was already working against her more than Peter thought it would; her thoughts reminded her of what had happened when her brother died. Everything rushed back into her mind like a storm, leaving no emotion untouched and wrecking everything in its path Marlow glanced around frantically as her memories began to take over. The soft voice of her brother wafted into her ears as she remembered exactly what he had told her so many years ago, it was only two days before he died, and yet it sounded as if he was right next to her.

_You're okay, close your eyes Marlow. None of this is happening, pretend you're at home and were all sitting in front of the fire. This can't hurt you. You're okay._

"Please," Marlow whimpered covering her eyes with her hands shakily.

From ten feet away Peter watched her carefully, at first he almost admired how indifferent she tried to appear, as if it really didn't bother her at all that he had left her alone. So he let it stew for a little while longer and watched as her emotions and expressions changed almost immediately, even with his night vision it was hard to see what her eyes were communicating. She glanced around with a pissed off air about her for a moment longer before it changed drastically to one of fear, something that Peter was not used to seeing or smelling on her.

All at once everything seemed to be changing for the worst, not that Peter had thought far enough ahead to even imagine what could have gone wrong, but it looked bad. There was a terror that flooded off her form that scared him a little, the way she was so terrified by the smallest sounds made him wonder if something had happened to her in the woods before.

Her hands covered her eyes and Peter took careful steps towards her, it was time to stop being a douche and make sure that she was okay, because obviously something had happened to make her act like this. It was her small voice, the soft whimper that broke Peter, immediately he was filled with regret for leaving her alone in the dark, even if he had been not ten feet away to simply watch her fall apart seemed like a crime. If only he hadn't wanted so much from her, if he'd just taken her home she wouldn't be making such an expression right now.

Enveloping her in his arms he felt the way she trembled at his touch before inching closer to his form, for that small moment he had gotten what he wanted, to hold her close and feel her heartbeat against his own chest. But it wasn't the same, and the taste was bitter in his mouth when he realized how he had achieved it, the wild, fearful thump of her heart was all because he thought his sly schemes would work on her.

"Marlow," he whispered her name softly.

Realizing what was happening she started to push away from his form, twisting out of his comforting arms she glanced around the forest again as if to validate where she was at the moment. A small sigh of relief escaped her lips before she turned an angry bitter face on Peter that her more than deserved for what he had done.

"Don't touch me," she tried to wriggle away from him. "You liar," she bit out at him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered tightening his grip on her form when she was about to get away. If he let her go now there was a chance that their relationship might not ever return to the one they currently had, he realized it instantly and tried to right his wrongs.

"Liar's aren't often sorry," she growled into his chest. "Peter," she spit out his name.

"Marlow," he said her name in return. His voice was loud enough to silence her for a moment to let him speak. "I'm sorry, really I am," his voice was kind and Marlow wasn't sure if it had ever taken such a tone. "I didn't think," he stopped himself short.

Realization struck him painfully as Peter noticed that he was actually a little speechless as to what he could say to make Marlow forgive him, the cool, sly, level headed Peter was having trouble explaining himself. It was strange to grasp, that he actually cared enough about someone to want forgiveness from a single individual. Marlow was really something if she could make a heartless guy like him start to feel all these emotions again, after what had happened to his family he was sure that most of it was gone forever. But then she came along and started relighting the wood and getting everything started again, and he was afraid that what he'd done might make her leave.

He was afraid she wouldn't want him anymore.

"Just take me home," she pleaded with him.

"Okay," he conceded moving away from her.

For a few minutes after getting into the car it was silent, Peter didn't know what to say to make it better and redeem himself just yet and Marlow was considering whether or not she should tell him. After another agonizing minute of only being able to hear Marlow's heart beat so very close to him she spoke again. Her voice sounded more like a sorrowful whisper than anything else and Peter had to listen carefully to catch her words.

"When I was sixteen and my brother was nineteen we went backpacking with our cousins, Ray and the twins, for the weekend in the mountains," she spoke breathlessly.

Holding his breath for a moment Peter stopped himself from saying anything in return at the mention of her brother, she only ever spoke of him cheerfully when she told stories. For her to sound so sad at the mention of him being involved meant that something bad had happened to him on the trip, something she never forgot.

"Our parents stayed in town with my aunt and uncle while the kids decided trekking through underbrush and tripping over rocks would be more fun," she smiled ever so faintly when she said this. "We made camp quickly, just off the trail so we could find our way back to the car in two days time, my cousin Annie hates getting lost," she explained. "The first night was fun, we talked about school, and reminisced about the fun times we'd had as children when we visited each other over the summer. The next day we went hiking, or exploring is more correct, only Annie stayed on the trail, we teased her for being boring. Carson, Ray, and I made sure to leave little trail markers on the trees so we could find out way back, we didn't want to get lost either, but the trail was too boring for us," she paused.

If Peter was correct Marlow was telling him how her brother had died. As far as he remembered she had told him that she was been in eleventh grade when he passed away, which would mean she was about sixteen.

"I don't remember exactly what happened but the ground gave way beneath us and Carson and I fell down a steep incline before disappearing altogether, or that's what Ray remembers anyway. I can still see the shock on his face as we fell away from him before I felt a sharp pain and blacked out. When I woke up the sun was setting and I was alone. When I tried to move I found that my leg was broken, and my hair was crusted with dried blood from where I'd hit my head," her voice started to get sadder as she spoke. "I spent the first night alone crouched against a rock hoping someone would come save me. The next morning Carson found me, at the time I didn't notice that he was badly injured, I was just happy that we were together. We stayed together until they found us a day later, I'd tried to stop the bleeding but it was no use. He'd held onto life just long enough to make sure that someone found us, and then he let go," she mumbled in an indifferent voice.

All in all she was doing her best not to sound weak, it had been many years since Carson had died and she'd made as much peace as she could with it. But in the end there were certain memories that still haunted her dreams and plagued her mind if something similar were to happen. For instance, being alone in the forest at night was a surefire way to remind her of the one night she'd spent alone in the forest before Carson had found her.

"He died in the ambulance," she glanced at Peter with a forlorn look in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, if I'd known-," Peter fumbled around with his words before hearing the soft sound of a chuckle.

"It's okay," she assured him. "It happened a long time ago."

In the end Marlow had done her best to move on from such a thing as death, but she could only be so happy with herself with her father reminding her that life would be so much better for him if she had died instead. Sometimes she hated herself for being the one that lived when she was always so miserable with her life; certainly if Carson had lived instead he would be doing much grander things with his life. Her father would miss her and her mother would mourn at the anniversary of her death but perhaps there would still be smiles amongst the remainder of the family.

At first when Peter had met Marlow and confessed a few things about his own life and what had happened to his own family the girl had been apologetic to him before mentioning the loss of her brother. It was one of the only times they had been quiet in the library before she brought the mood back up by linking in their earlier conversation topic into the equation. At the time he'd admired the way she was able to let the pain of losing someone linger in the air while laughing faintly at a smart comment meant for humor. He could only offer much of the same in return in hopes that it would brighten the current darkness of the story.

"Next time we'll bring glow sticks," Peter tried to lighten the mood.

Not expecting the man to make a joke about it Marlow laughed without restraint and turned to him with an amused expression on her face. Almost immediately after telling someone how her brother had died the man next to her made a silly in order to make her feel better. Marlow had never really realized why or how much she liked Peter until that moment, when even after hearing her gruesome tale, he reminded her to stay positive. The way he teased her and got jealous over how much time she spent with the teens made her feel wanted and accepted amongst the small family that they had. Maybe this was where she belonged.

"Or we can pretend we're normal and go during the day," she let the cheerfulness back into her tone.

"Is that an invitation?" He questioned giving her a sly grin. She gawked at him for a moment before turning away with a pout.

"You're such a butt face," she muttered under her breath making him smirk. When Peter finally got to her house and stopped in the driveway Marlow gave Peter a soft smile before opening the door slowly, but he had one last thing to say before she went back into her house and left him. Grabbing her wrist in a gentle hold, Peter tried to ignore the small flinch that passed through her eyes when he reached for her.

"What you're doing for your mother, staying with her until the end even though it's painful for you. Don't try to lie and tell me that it isn't," his voice almost sounded forceful. He already knew Marlow well enough that her mind was circulating remarks about how she was fine even with her mother slowly dying everyday, it was nice that someone knew she was lying.

"It is," she finally confessed.

"Your brother would be proud of you," he said while letting go of her wrist. Marlow stared at him dully for a moment before a hard expression indented itself into her eyes while she leaned back into the car and pushed her lips against Peter's for a second before pulling away. Peter didn't even have a chance to react to what she had done before she was smiling at him with a gentle expression on her face.

"Thank you," she whispered before closing the door and walking to the front door of her house.

Watching Peter pull out of the driveway hesitantly she followed his car until it disappeared around the corner before a determined expression found it's way to her face, a happy smile twisting her lips.

Peter was frozen for a few moments after Marlow closed the door the his car, leaving him in silence to contemplate what had just happened in the span of ten seconds. He'd never expected Marlow to be the one to make the first move, although the kiss had been very brief and immensely shocking Peter could still feel the soft touch of her lips on his own as he finally began to pull out of the driveway. Again, Marlow had surprised him again. Licking his lips Peter glanced back at her house just before turning the corner to see that she was standing just in front of the door, watching him leave.

Next time he would be the one to kiss her.

That night Marlow's father had been angrier than usual and relentless in his beatings, cursing and yelling at his daughter louder than the night before with much more force than he'd used previous nights. Marlow was sure that, with the amount of hits he'd dished out, her arms would be one huge mess of purple and yellowing skin, that's how it felt like it was going to be.

But she didn't care, not with the evening playing back in her mind Peter seemed to be someone who understood her, he knew what to do when she was talking about a sad and serious topic. Even though he wasn't childish to match her own behavior there was a certain degree of playfulness that made their time together exciting. A lot of the time a man wanted someone who would melt in their hands and flutter at any compliment given, and that made Marlow gag at the thought. She'd simply convinced herself that she was too strange to attract anyone that would bring her happiness, though she was doubting her own resolve now, with Peter and everyone else she'd gotten to know here.

A little bit of blood began to trickle down the side of her head before she even realized that she was bleeding, all at once there was a pounding quake in her mind as she remembered how her father had thrown her onto the ground. Her wrist was even a little stiff from where she had tried to stop herself from totally face planting into the ground, and yet all she could think about was how she'd kissed Peter. Immediately her face burned bright red and she was happy to be alone else someone might have seen her. She still couldn't believe that in the end her feelings had taken control and she kissed him, as if to confess that she did like him more than a friend.

The feeling of his lips against hers was something that she hadn't felt in at least three years, relationships that weren't friend related were never really something that Marlow had been interested in. Especially after so many people had stopped being friends with her for whatever reason over the course of her life. It made such a thing as kissing Peter all the more embarrassing because it was the first time that she had been the one to take the initiative, but she didn't regret it at all.

=0=0=

It had been three days since she and Peter had gone to the movies and no one had seen her since then, Isaac was starting to worry, something had definitely happened with her father, that was why she didn't want to be seen. At first when Peter came to Derek's house to talk about an omega that had been wandering around, he explained that he'd caught it's scent the other night in the forest, the man seemed a lot more cheerful than usual. Isaac could only guess that it was because his date with Marlow had gone well, there was nothing else that made that man smile other than women, and perhaps an enemies pain.

But then she was gone from their lives for three days, Erica was starting to think that Peter was hoarding her for himself but Peter insisted that she had sent him a text explaining that her mother was getting worse and she needed to be at home right now. Everyone else bought it but Isaac was too worried to believe such a simple explanation as that. And then she'd sent him that text and everything that he had been worrying about materialized right in front of his eyes.

_Will you help me?_

He'd been so sure that all his worries were true and that she was lying in her room or somewhere else with blood running down her kneck and a beaten face that his mind didn't even have time to catch up.

_You know I will._ He sent it back to her almost instantly, his blood boiling with hatred towards her father whom he'd never even met.

_Meet me at the park?_ She sent back. It was a park that the teens always met with her at before deciding what they wanted to do for the rest of the day.

Turning in the direction of the park Isaac didn't even reply before starting off at a sprint, he could just see her sitting on one of the swings with a sorrowful look in her eyes. A bruised and beaten face that she couldn't even hide if she wanted to, the depression rolling off her in waves that he wouldn't be able to break through.

It wasn't the case at all, at least not all the sorrowful emotions anyway. She had been sitting at one of the tables with a sketchbook, sporting a new busted lip, a bandage on the side of her head, and a fading bruise on her left cheek. Yet when she looked up and saw him there in front of her she smiled brightly and waved him over, almost as if they didn't even share the secret of her father beating her.

"I need someone to be my model for the day," she explained pulling out a camera when he got closer.

Isaac looked at her bitterly as she continued to tell him about how it was an assignment for her class and the only people she knew in this town were a bunch of teenagers.

"Why didn't you ask Peter?" He almost spat at her. He didn't even know why he was so angry with her, probably because his brain had gone crazy with thoughts that she would be in trouble, his heart had beat wildly in his chest and here she was smiling and pretending that she was okay. He wanted her to let go of her mask and let everything out, because he knew what it was like, he could help her!

"Because I needed you," she said in a painfed voice.

"This is why no one has seen you for three days," he said reaching up to touch her head cautiously. His fingers grazed over the fabric of the white bandage while he turned his eyes on Marlow to see that she had an ashamed look in her eyes.

"He's been getting more violent, last night he almost knocked me unconscious," she muttered looked away from him. "When I was in high school I didn't care but, I'm scared," her was so quiet Isaac was sure if he wasn't a werewolf he wouldn't have heard it.

She looked so fragile in front of him that Isaac couldn't bear to imagine her walking back into her house, closing the door and blocking his sight of her while her father raised his hands against her. Her face was already bruised and battered what more could he do to her? Without too much thought Isaac made up his mind, Marlow already felt like his sister, and he had to keep her safe.

"Stay with me tonight."

* * *

**AN: Eh? Ehhhhh? What did you think? We finally found out what happened to Marlow's brother and learned about one of her weaknesses. If she's alone the darkness is her enemy. Not at all like Bane from Batman...**

**Don't forget to leave me a comment on what you thought of it.**

**She kissed Peter! Bet you didn't expect that to happen.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Whoo, chapter five! Happy day. The chapter took a little longer because I had some issues with school and life, life itself is one big issue. I'm starting to get into the rising action for this story so that should be fun right?**

**As always thank you for the reviews Milu, Guest, Pretty, and Kiba. Thanks for wishing me luck in school Guest! Again, I don't like to edit so if there's grammar nastiness and misspelled words I apologize and I'll cringe at them later.**

** In regards to your questions Kiba: She has met Derek and figures that Peter does not have a wife since he's going through all the trouble of asking her out and taking his time with her. Or at elast she hopes that everything he's doing isn't for fun anyway.**

**Don't forget to tell me what you think at the end of this installment, enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

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**Chapter Five**

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For the rest of the day Marlow left the topic of staying over at Isaac's alone, shrugging it away while he tried to bring the conversation back to it. Soon she was laughing again, though she did complain about how smiling made her lip split open and he frowned bitterly at that comment. She got pictures of him walking with frowns etched into his features and praised the moments that she caught him laughing or grinning about something. There were also a handful of weird faces that he insisted she delete, even though there was no chance in even considering that, she would keep those disgusting faces forever.

At the moment they were getting a couple sandwiches from another person that Marlow had gotten to know during her stay in Beacon Hills, she told Isaac his name was Andrew. Isaac merely wondered what kind of face Peter would make if he knew that Marlow had made friends with another man besides himself. Once they were situated with their food and Marlow was glancing through the pictures of the day Isaac went back to the topic of the day, making Marlow's face twist uncomfortably.

"What about Derek?" She questioned. What if the man had something against her staying the night over at his place? He'd most likely question her appearance, and she didn't want anyone else to know what was really happening at home, one person was enough.

"I'll tell him you need a night away from home because of all the stress, he'll understand," he said sternly. Isaac was confident that Derek wouldn't mind, and if that Alpha did he would convince him to let the girl stay.

"I still have school stuff to do," she explained holding up the camera.

"Bring it over," he stated.

"But if Erica see's me, she's going to wonder what happened," now she was just trying to get out of it in any way possible.

"She's staying with her parents this week," he said watching her expression fall. "Marlow," he said her name sternly to get her attention. "I will drag you there if I have to," he growled catching her off guard for a moment.

"Fine," she mumbled. "But I have to tell my mom," was all she countered with.

"Let's go tell her then," he said excitedly.

They finished up their food and went to Marlow's parent's house quickly, she told him that her father would be home in about forty five minutes and if she was home when he got home it would be bad. The house looked normal, Isaac didn't know why he expected it to look any different than his own house had, just because something evil was going on inside didn't mean it had to look evil. She smiled at him awkwardly before getting out of the car and going in the front door.

"I'm home," she called out into the almost empty house.

A very faint voice answered her and Isaac knew immediately that it was her mother; of course he could hear the voice better than she had heard it with his more sensitive ears. He held himself back while Marlow explained to her mother where she was going to be that night; the woman assured her that she would be fine with her father. It was quiet for a few moments before they exchanged loving words and Marlow was walking towards him slowly from around the corner of the living room.

"I'll go get my stuff," she muttered softly. "Just stay here," she frowned when Isaac was about to offer his help.

"Okay," he murmured watching her disappear into the house.

Wandering around the doorway to the house Isaac noticed a small picture frame sitting on a table near the stairs, there was a man and a woman watching their son hold a newborn baby with gentle smiles on their faces. The picture looked light and airy; lifting his spirits in such a house that made him bitter with anger at what happened during the darkest hours of the night. Listening to the woman's breathing Isaac stopped himself just short of walking into the living room where the older woman breathed heavily.

"Are you Isaac?" A soft voice called out to him. He froze slightly at the mention of his own name in such a gentle way, if he had ever imagined talking to her mother it was never like this.

"Yes," he responded taking careful steps into the room.

"I thought so," the woman in front of him smiled kindly. He saw immediately where Marlow got her facial features from, the eyes and nose were almost the same as the girl who grinned and told him jokes every day. "She probably dislikes the fact that you're so tall," she looked up at him.

It made Isaac laugh nervously, she certainly knew her daughter well despite always being at home sick when she could be out with Marlow, seeing the way she glowed around others. Immediately Isaac felt guilty, she was withered and sickly looking as she seemed to only be sitting up because the couch made her. Even in the warmth of the house she was huddled under a soft pastel blanket, her shaking hands tried to pull the fabric closer to her body as she gave him a fond stare.

"She has mentioned that before," he let out a short chuckle.

"You know what happens here don't you? With her father?" Her voice was suddenly sharp, surprising Isaac into staring at her cautiously. Her gaze was penetrating, even with such a thin and weak body behind the expression he felt a shiver run up his spine, this woman was strong.

"I do," he swallowed dryly.

"I want you to take her away from here, don't let her come back," her voice was cold as she said this. Isaac was taken aback by such a straightforward attitude from such a frail looking person as the one in front of him.

"But she," he began to say something in return but the older woman cut him off sternly. Reaching out to take his hand with her own trembling palms she urged him to get eyes level with her.

"She's stubborn, I'm sure you found out about her father before she told you," she stated to which he nodded numbly. "I don't want her here. She's my daughter, and I love her, but it kills me more than this damn disease to see and hear what that man does to her every night. To see the new bruises on her arms that she covers with a sleeve and a smile. Surely it makes you angry," she muttered towards him.

"Very," he responded simply making the woman nod.

"Thank you, for being there for my little girl," there were tears prickling at her eyes. It almost made Isaac feel even more protective of Marlow when her mother called her a little girl, if she was Isaac's sister, would he ever allow anyone to hurt her? "But now I need you to take her and never allow her to return," she gave Isaac a deep stare.

"I don't want her to come back here either," he explained allowing anger to burn through his expression.

"Good."

=0=0=

The conversation that Isaac had had with her mother lingered in his mind long after they left her house and went grocery shopping, the strong look in the woman's eyes as she stared into him. He had to admire the way Marlow's mother cared so deeply for her, though at the same time he was sure that eventually Marlow would go back to that house. Eventually she would have to say good bye to someone who loved her so much.

One of Marlow's conditions for staying over was that she was going to be making dinner, breakfast, and any other type of snack that he or Derek wanted, it was her way of paying them back for letting her stay. Isaac was okay with it, surely Derek would be fine with letting her stay if she was going to be making them food in return, and he wouldn't even have to convince him. Marlow stopped short at the cereal aisle, her eyes adopted a more vacantly fond expression as she stared at the section that was granola bars. A small smile passed over her face before she walked past the aisle and made her way back towards the dairy products.

No matter how many times Isaac asked her what she was going to make for dinner she told him nothing, even when he jested with her about whether or not she could even cook in the first place she kept her mouth shut. She picked up potatoes, chicken, some spices, fresh fruit, fresh vegetables, some cans of stuff, chocolate chips, and other baking ingredients. As always when Isaac tried to pitch in some money towards the end amount Marlow refused and said this was her way of paying him back for everything he'd done for her. But she would need his help taking all the bags out to the car because she didn't want to take a cart, he was happy to at least help with that.

When they got to Derek's place he wasn't even there, Isaac didn't know if he would be happy about that or worry if he was going to bring Peter home with him for pack business. If he did the man would recognize Marlow's scent and more than likely be very angry that she was with Isaac, he'd suspect something unnecessary.

"What are you doing?" Isaac muttered as Marlow opened up cabinets in the kitchen.

"Dinner," she gave him an obvious expression.

"So early?" He questioned going to help her unload the bags.

"It's already almost seven," she said looking at the clock. "When do you usually eat dinner?" She asked giving him a suspicious stare.

"Whenever I want to," he mumbled under his breath. She glanced back at him to see if he was going to repeat his comment but he looked embarrassed, surely she didn't have normal dinners with her family anymore. "I'll call Derek and see when he's coming home," he said turning to walk up the stairs.

"If you smell something burning just know that it wasn't my fault," she called after him. The kitchen was clean, much to her surprise, though whenever she came over the house was always clean despite housing two guys and sometimes a hyperactive girl. Perhaps Derek was a clean freak; he did kind of look the type.

Letting a sigh of relief wash over her Marlow smiled gently when she finally found everything she was looking for, she was against it to the very end but altogether relieved that she wasn't spending the night with her abusive father. It had taken forever for the cut on her head to stop bleeding and her mother was very insistent on her leaving the house as soon as possible to escape the beatings. But this was she wasn't gone, merely taking a one night vacation to lick her wounds before going back into battle the next day.

She didn't know what she had been expecting from Isaac, really she just wanted to get out of the house and hang out with someone she knew, but with so many injuries on her face there was only one person who could. But she was so grateful that he simply let her live the way she wanted to without making decisions for her like her friends had done in the past.

Though she could see the pain in his eyes whenever he caught sight of a new injury on her arms, or the tightness of her breath when she grazed something that was sore. If there was anything in the world she didn't want it was for someone to feel sorry for her, to take pity on her, she didn't need that right now. Her mother was dying, she was getting beaten by her father every night, and all she could do was hide it. More than anything she wanted to appear strong and resilient, because in this world where everything can fall apart so easily she wanted to be the one that would be there for anyone. Not the person everyone felt sorry for.

Everyone can change so vastly with such little things and so little with big things, if anything were to remain a constant reassurance and warmth, it would be her. For however long they would have her she would be the strong one, though now it was Isaac who had seen her weak and pitiful side, the side of her that needed help. At first she had been angry that he found out, but it was nice to have someone she could rely on, someone like her to catch her when she fell.

Isaac dialed Derek's number with a bit of nervousness in his throat, he didn't doubt that if Derek knew the truth as to why Marlow couldn't go home he'd let the girl stay. But Isaac wasn't supposed to tell him the truth.

"What?" Came his voice from the other end.

"Hey, it's Isaac; do you know where Peter is?" He asked in a frenzy. Above all Isaac had to make sure that Peter didn't know Marlow was at their house, if the man found out that the girl he liked was getting beaten by her father. He would be even angrier than Isaac had been when he found out; Isaac didn't doubt that her father would be dead before the sun even rose the next morning.

"Just dropped him off at his apartment, why?" His tone suggested that he was already suspicious but Isaac chose to ignore it.

"Just making sure," he added before sighing at Derek's silence. "By the way, Marlow is spending the night with us," he closed his eyes waiting for Derek to yell.

"No she isn't," his voice was cold. He didn't dislike Marlow, in fact the girl fit into the pack very well, Erica didn't shut up about her whenever they hung out, but she didn't know that they were werewolves. How would she react if something slipped while they were at home and she freaked out?

"She's making dinner for us," Isaac tried to make the statement sound more enticing.

"No Isaac," he growled into the phone. Isaac could imagine the red flicker of his eyes as he snarled his answer into the phone.

"I can't send her home," his reply was just as furious at the thought of telling her to leave.

"Why not?" Came the bitterly response.

"I'll tell you when you get here," he muttered before hanging up.

Brought back downstairs by the smell Isaac almost drooled over Marlow's shoulder as she stirred some sort of potato chicken dish in the skillet. Isaac assured Marlow that he'd made up a good excuse about her injuries and Derek was okay with letting her stay the night, that he didn't suspect anything at all. She breathed a sigh of relief and said something about how dessert would be more exciting if they all made it together.

Peter had been anxious when Derek went to his apartment to talk about some omega in the woods, when Derek told him to calm down the man explained that no one had seen Marlow in a few days. He suspected that it was his fault because he scared her and hurt her the night of their date, and that perhaps she didn't want anything to do with him anymore. It made Derek chuckle to see him so distraught, jumping from Marlow to the omega in a single breath. A single woman had changed everyone so much, Erica loved the girl, and even Boyd didn't seem to mind the new human edition to the pack.

But that was just it, she didn't know that there was a pack to begin with; she didn't know that they were werewolves and sometimes went crazy on the night of the full moon. In their world she was just a human, an ignorant woman who smelled clean without even noticing it, if she stayed with them eventually she would figure it out. What Derek really didn't want was another human knowing about werewolves, they didn't need another burden.

So why did Isaac think it was okay to invite her to stay over? He knew that all the teenagers were more than happy to spend time with her, even he didn't mind her company, but this crossed all the lines that Derek had carefully placed between them and her. He could already smell the nervousness of his beta before the fresh scent of Marlow washed into his nostrils, he was going to have to send her home and then lecture Isaac about why. Though one comment had stuck with him all through his bitter drive home, the fact that Isaac had stated so strongly that he couldn't send her home, why not?

The door dinged open and the next thing he was bombarded with was the scent of dinner, an inviting smell that made his mouth water slightly, when was the last time he had sat down to eat dinner? Going straight towards Isaac's scent Derek almost growled when he saw that the pup was hiding behind Marlow as she cut up an apple in the kitchen.

She turned to him suddenly, a soft smile on her face as her eyes lit up with a tight airiness that made his anger fall away almost immediately. There was a bandage on her head, one of her lips split open even as she grinned at him and a purpling bruise on one side of her face, what had happened to her?

"Welcome home," she greeted him warmly. "I'm almost done, give me about five minutes and then we can eat," she explained before shooing Isaac out of the kitchen when he tried to steal food.

"Okay," Derek replied not know what else to say. "I'll just go change then," he muttered before walking away.

Fidgeting slightly Isaac followed him when Derek turned to give him a hard glare, he moved to take them upstairs but the beta stopped him short and motioned with his head to look back into the kitchen.

"What?" Derek seethed when he didn't say anything.

In front of them Marlow sighed and proceeded to put all the pieces of cut up apple into a bowl before touching her bandage to make sure none of the medical tape was coming off. When she was sure she was alone, despite Derek and Isaac's long distance eyesight, she pushed the sleeves of her sweater up slightly. Isaac tensed next to him and all at once there was a burning anger coming from the boy who bit his cheek to keep from growling darkly.

"Look at her arms," his voice was a mere whisper.

Focusing on what should be pale skin beneath the fabric Derek could see that her fair skin was covered in bruises between different levels of healing. In some parts her skin was yellow and ugly looking, while other areas were dark and painful looking, it looked like someone had painted her arms with special affects make up. Without knowing how he had reacted Derek hissed softly as his eyes flashed red for a moment before he caught himself and calmed down enough to control his voice.

"What happened to her?" He asked as soon as they turned away. Isaac motioned for them to go upstairs just in case Marlow happened to hear what they were talking about; he wasn't going to take any chances.

Right when Isaac looked ready to say something he stopped himself short, which made Derek stare at him darkly, the hesitation was clear on his face as he glanced around the room frantically. Sighing softly he looked at the ground for a moment.

"I promised Marlow I wouldn't tell anyone," it sounded more like he was talking to himself than Derek.

"Give me a reason to keep her here Isaac," Derek muttered walking into his room and pulling his shirt off to change.

Isaac bit his lip nervously, he didn't want to go back on his promise to Marlow already, and if she ever found out that he had let her secret be known by others there was a chance she wouldn't forgive him. She'd already told him a few times that she didn't have anyone like him at the moment, and that he was special to her because even if they didn't know each other very well or for that long, he agreed to keep her baggage hidden. Yet at the same time he couldn't bear to keep such a heavy weight all upon himself, someone else had to know, and who better than the Alpha?

Derek pulled on a different shirt in front of him, listening to the ever changing rapid heartbeat of the teenager's heart behind him. In the end he wasn't going to send Marlow home anyway, not when she looked like that, obviously there was something happening to her that only Isaac knew about. If she was here it meant that Isaac believed she would be safe in their care, away from whatever harm might come to her outside this building. He trusted the boy's judgment, but when it came down to it Derek was the last one who wanted to be kept in the dark.

Brushing past the teen to get out the door of his room Derek sighed softly before going to the stairs before Isaac's soft voice called his attention.

"When I lived with my father, I never wanted to go home," he muttered turning his face away from Derek's scrutinizing stare. "Please don't send her home to that," he begged in a whimper, his eyes flashed yellow for a second.

It took him a moment to latch onto the kids words before he completely understood what Isaac had revealed without blatantly telling him the truth. Marlow was like Isaac had been before his father had been killed; it was the very reason Isaac was so insistent on keeping her at the house with them. He didn't want to see any new bruises painted on her arm like a plague, to watch her smile knowing that she was going home to a monster of a father.

Much like Isaac had done earlier in the day Derek's mind clicked everything together with a bitter hatred, the rest of the packs complaints about not seeing the girl in three days was because of her father. She didn't want to come out of her house because if she did they would ask her what had happened and she wouldn't be able to cover it up with a lie, not when the evidence was all over her face. It explained why Isaac had been so awkward when the topic of Marlow came up between the rest of the teenagers lately, he was trying to cope with the anger of knowing what happened to her. She'd more than likely made him promise to keep everything a secret, that she would be okay by herself.

Derek's reaction surprised himself, in the short few weeks or month that he had been introduced and gotten to know Marlow he didn't think of the woman as anyone significant. Merely a distraction for Peter and the pups to laugh and have fun with while she was still in town with her mother, not someone he needed to care about. Even though as soon as everything made sense his first reaction was hatred for such a person that would cause her pain, it almost felt like she was already part of the pack.

"Derek?" Isaac asked after a long moment of silence between the two of them. More than anxiousness and contempt in his scent Derek could smell a hint of fear, he was afraid that Derek was going to send her back home.

"She's staying here," he muttered before going back down the spiral staircase.

"Dinner's ready!" Came Marlow's voice throughout the house. Isaac smiled brightly at Derek's back as his form disappeared down to the first level of the building.

"Thank you," he whispered knowing that Derek would hear it.

=0=0=

Dinner was fun, even though Derek seemed either really bored or exceedingly tired, Marlow made it her mission to get a laugh out of the man, or even a grin, she would settle for a grin. Isaac was lively even after Marlow made him wash the dishes since all he had done during her time in the kitchen was eat sample anything he could get his hands on. She almost forgot what would be happening at home if she was still at home right now; it would be about the time her father was getting home.

Surely if she had stayed at home he would have thrown her down the stairs or something drastic that would knock her out, there would definitely be another bruise on her face. But she was here instead, wondering what she could possibly do to make Derek react to what she was saying or doing, thinking that they would probably make dessert after she finished her homework.

"Is it homework time?" Isaac asked as she pulled out her laptop. She gave him a lopsided look of disappointment before nodding her head gloomily; she wasn't looking forward to spending the next hour in photoshop. Sometimes it was fun to mess around with things but all she was doing for this assignment was messing around with the pictures she had taken in class the other day. "What do you have to do?" He muttered sitting down next to her on the couch.

"I have to incorporate noise and anger into this picture only the colors black and white," she murmured plugging her camera memory card into the laptop and opening the program.

"Who's in the picture?" Marlow glanced at him blandly as a way of saying he was asking too many questions.

"People from my class, everyone was given the same picture to mess around with," she explained taking out her tablet. Seeing that Isaac would understand almost nothing of art or what she was doing he grabbed his own bit of schoolwork and starting reading some boring chapter. Derek was doing something on his own computer, taking notes every so often while glancing over at Isaac with a calculating expression in his eyes.

She was already about thirty minutes into editing it when boredom took over her brain and she started looking through the pictures she had taken with Isaac that morning. Making a copy of her current assignment she stared messing around with Isaac and the other people in the picture just for fun, smiling evilly at certain results.

There was one expression in particular that Marlow couldn't wait to incorporate into the piece. She'd taken the picture just before he brought a cup up to his lips for some water, leaving his lips twisted into what appeared to be a duck face. An expression that everyone claimed to hate whenever a girl took a picture trying to look cute and she'd gotten one of Isaac without him even knowing it. The face by itself made her smirk and stifle a giggle that made Isaac give her a wary glance before going back to his textbook.

After a few minutes of tweaking and editing her comical piece of boredom she enlarged the picture until it took up her entire screen. For a single second she did her best not to laugh at the final result before she let her laughter explode into the silence that floated around them like a heavy fog. At first her bursts of noise were soft as she tried to stop herself but there was no hope after she stared at the picture longer and longer.

"Oh my gosh," she breathed heavily between cackles of laughter. Isaac stared at her oddly before putting his book down while Derek seemed slightly surprised by the sudden blast of noise. "I'm sorry, so sorry, oh, I can't," she kept gasping for breath while Derek glowered at her from his seat a little ways behind her.

"What?" Isaac muttered getting up to see what had destroyed the quiet around them. Catching a glance of his face in the picture before Marlow covered it he reached for her computer slowly. "Is that my face?" He asked as she leaned away from his curiosity.

"Maybe," she choked clutching the screen to her chest.

"Can I see it?" He touched it for a moment before she shifted away from him again. Shaking her head while trying to form a frown on her face Isaac was sure she was going to start crying from laughing so hard. "Let me see the picture," he growled leaning to grab onto the screen.

"Trust me you look beautiful," she assured him with a devilish grin.

Derek let the whole thing go for a few minutes before Isaac started to get playful with Marlow and loose his control in the spur of the moment. His eyes flashed yellow for a second before Derek grabbed the laptop away from Marlow to see what all the fuss was about.

"What would you do if you broke this?" He asked trying to sound like the responsible parent before he caught sight of the picture on the screen.

Isaac looked thoughtful for a moment while Marlow simply looked at Derek with a very poorly hidden smile on her lips; he could only imagine his face was much the same as he took in the sight of Isaac's duck face. Marlow stared at him with wide eyes as he placed the laptop on the table for the teen to see before going back to his own computer to work. There was no laughter from him but Marlow swore she saw the smallest traces of a smile on his features. It was more than enough of a mission accomplished for her, she'd made him stop talking altogether, any words he had been about to utter died on his tongue at the sight of such a masterpiece.

"What did you do to me?" Isaac gaped while looking at her photoshopped monstrosity.

She had taken his silly expression and placed it on every person's face in the picture, changing the features of each person until it blended into his face. There was even a more faded larger version of his face as the background of the whole image; needless to say Isaac was not impressed. Just glancing back at the teen made Marlow burst into another fit of laughter before she got up and made her way into the kitchen.

After a few minutes of silence, despite the occasional grumbling of Isaac as he glanced back at Marlow's computer she popped her head out of the kitchen to look at both of them.

"We're making fudge, get in here," she commanded of both of them. Isaac was the only one that obliged, happy to be rid of reading something he wasn't even paying attention to in the first place.

Derek didn't join them at first but after Marlow threw a few chocolate chips at him he growled something about the girl being more immature than the teenagers and sat grumpily in the kitchen with them. He ended up with the job of keeping Isaac from sticking his fingers into the melted chocolate before it cooled, snapping at his hand every ten seconds soon turned into Marlow dipping her fingers the chocolate. She then rubbed it across Isaac's forehead before reaching for Derek only to have him glare at her darkly for even considering it.

When the fudge was done they ate some of it, some of them had more than others before Marlow expressed how tired she was. The wolves glanced at each other cautiously, it was only about eleven thirty but they figured that Marlow probably needed to get some sleep after not getting any at her own home for so long. Isaac explained that there was a room at the end of the hall upstairs that Erica slept in whenever she stayed over and Marlow could use it if she wanted to.

It wasn't long before she was laying down on the bed with heavy eyelids staring up at the ceiling, a soft smiled painted across her lips as she thought of what had happened the whole day up until that moment.

It was like she had a family again, not that her mother and father weren't still her family, but she didn't consider it as much of a loving household as she had when she was younger. There was the laughter and jesting with each other that she had loved to do with her brother when he was still alive. Derek even seemed content with being the stern father who sometimes broke his stern aura in order to let a smile out of his serious countenance.

It had been a long time since she had laughed so hard with other people and gone out of her way to make sure that everyone in the room was happy to have her there. If Derek thought she was an awkward burden she wanted to change his view of her to something or someone he thought of as a friend. Not just some random girl that his uncle and friends all seemed to like for some reason. She wanted to see him smile and loose that dark expression he always wore, what would he sound like when he finally laughed?

Her smile faltered slightly when her thoughts floated over to Peter and how she hadn't seen him in about four days now, not since she had leant in to thank him for his kind words. What would he do the next time they met? Bring her in for a hug? If he saw her before she healed what questions would he ask her?

Rolling over onto her side Marlow pulled the covers over her body before frowning grimly at the sensation of not being alone. Here in this town that she had never expected to be something she would like there were people that cared about her enough to let her stay at their house. There were people that reminded her what it was like to have a family, to feel the spark of love burn in her chest while a crimson fire lit up her cheeks. She'd didn't know what to expect, for her plans to change, she never expected anything to change them but they had, if she had Peter and everyone else waiting for her she could forget her plans altogether.

"She's asleep," Isaac muttered walking down the stairs to see Derek sitting on the couch.

"Good, we're going on a hunt tonight, are you ready to go?" He asked standing up quickly before turning towards the door. For some reason Isaac felt a little anxious about leaving Marlow alone in the house but was excited all the same for a chance to let his other form loose on the forest.

"Hunt for what?" He let his eyes glow in anticipation for the hunt.

"Some wolf causing trouble in our territory, he's sniffing around my old house, and stealing corpses from the hospital," he explained relaying the information that he'd gotten from Scott, Stiles, and Peter.

"Why corpses?" He asked watching the door close behind them.

"He just wanted to get our attention," Derek growled bitterly. The Omega claimed he only wanted to talk business with the pack at Beacon Hills, something about an Omega that had passed through previously that he needed information on.

"Well I guess it worked," Isaac muttered with a disgusted expression on his features. He could have just left a note on the door or something, meet me here, or whatever; maybe he had a fetish or something.

=0=0=

The next morning Marlow woke slowly, a sound from downstairs pulled her from her drowsiness and out of whatever her dream had been about. It was hard to catch onto the last trails of whatever it had been and try to understand what it had meant, but she didn't care all that much. Someone had woken up before her when she had planned to get up early and make breakfast for them; hopefully it was Isaac because she could easily send him back to his room with the promise of dinner.

Making sure to pull a long sleeved shirt over her pajamas Marlow slumped down the stairs and checked to see who had woken before her. After checking the kitchen, living room, and entry room and finding no one she shrugged before going to the fridge and pulling out some bacon, it always seemed to wake people up in the morning.

She was ten pieces into making the whole package when the door opened to reveal Derek with a grumpy look on his face. Marlow was about to say something to him when his expression faltered and he froze for a moment, he glanced around the building before his eyes landed on her form staring at him oddly. For a single flash of a second Marlow could have sworn she saw his eyes flash red before the color was gone and she stood there wondering what her mind had created for her. He'd actually looked pretty awesome with red eyes for that second.

"Be right back," he grunted at her before vaulting up the stairs.

Shrugging it off she went back to the sizzling and popping bacon in front of her, muttering about nasty grease when it shot at her hands and burned for a few moments. There was a loud thump from upstairs before it was quiet in the house again, she had half a mind to go upstairs and see if they needed any help but thought against it. This was his house and anything that happened here was something she wasn't used to, this could be a common thing between Derek and Isaac, maybe it was his usual wake up call.

Not much later Isaac was walking down the stairs with tired eyes and an unnerved look about him, as if he'd just woken up from a disturbing dream he didn't care to repeat. Understanding such an expression Marlow left it alone and went to work on making some scrambled eggs as Isaac sat down and yawned. She didn't notice the way his eyes darted around the room as his nose picked up on new scents that plagued his senses.

Derek joined them in a few moments time and sat down with a thump before grabbing a couple pieces of bacon and chomping down on them. For some reason he seemed jumpy and kept giving Isaac hard stares that he returned nervously, though after a few minutes of munching on bacon their nerves seemed to settle down a little.

"So," Derek cleared his throat while catching Marlow's eyes in his own.

As far as she knew tonight she would be back at home with her father, trying her best to defend herself as he reprimanded her for leaving him alone. It had been nice to stay over at his place for a night, she'd actually gotten much needed rest that she couldn't find at her parent's house, but one night was enough. There was no way she could ask to stay another night, nor would she even think about bringing the topic up, one day away from her father had been paradise and she was immensely grateful.

"Do you need some water?" She asked going toward the cabinet. Derek shook his head good naturedly before glancing at Isaac for a second; they exchanged a stern look before Derek did his best at looking friendly.

"What are we having for dinner tonight?"

* * *

**AN: This chapter was more getting acquainted type stuff, now everyone in the pack knows/cares about Marlow whether they wanted to or not. Mostly Derek in this case. I'm getting close to all the nitty gritty stuff so be prepared for gasping and nifty realizations in the future chapters of this story.**

**Anyway, what did you think of this chapter? Now Derek knows about her father as well, who do you think will be the next one to figure it out?**

**Don't forget to leave me a comment on what you thought, thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Hello! How is everyone today, how about that super bowl? Who were you rooting for? I don't really care about football, my parents dragged my to a party tha their friend invited them to. I just wanted the food.**

**Anyway, thank you as always for the reviews, Milu, hanna, kiba, guest, wolvie, and Zoey.**

**Kiba: It's coming, don't worry. I have an intense way that she's going to find out, it'll be awesome.**

**Hanna: Boredom often leads me to many stories that become addicting on here, and now you have joined us, thank your boredom for me.**

**So as always I didn't really edit this, I did read through a little bit of it and changed some words around but ultimately got too anxious and wanted to post it as always. So enjoy!**

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**Chapter Six**

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For a few weeks Marlow stayed with Derek and Isaac on and off, every four or five days she would spend a night at her parent's to take care of her mom and keep suspicion low. She went on a couple dates with Peter when her wounds healed up again, all the while bonding even more with the rest of the pack. After giving Erica a simple lie about Marlow how needed a break away from her mother for emotional reasons, such as the strain becoming too much or she felt like she was going to collapse the girl accepted it. In the end she was just happy her favorite adult would be spending more time with them now that she was temporarily living with them.

Stiles, Scott, and Boyd heard the same version that had been given to Erica while Peter was the only one in the dark about anything and everything related to Marlow and her issues. If he found out about what her father did to her when she was at home he would lose it and go on a rampage, and even as an Alpha Derek would have a hard time stopping him. It would do nothing but shock and hurt Marlow if she were to find out they had kept things from her when she had told them her own secrets. And it certainly wouldn't help if Peter snapped and ripped her father to shreds, they'd probably scare her away.

If there was anything they all agreed on it was that Marlow had become a part of the pack, even if she didn't know it at all they treated her like one of their own. When there was a threat of an Omega or something else in town they stayed in all day and watched movies in order to keep her safe in case anything were to happen. It was because she was human that they all felt the need to look after her, even Stiles who was also human felt the need to keep her safe when something unusual happened.

For Marlow the feeling was very much the same, though perhaps not described as a pack and more of a family, which is more or less the same thing. It reminded her of when she was a child and before her brother had died, when they all laughed together and stood up for each other when something happened. There were messes in the kitchen and screaming at each other for fun that she found to be commonplace amongst those who had become her family in Beacon hills. Warmth that she had not felt in a long time and a burning flame that ignited in her chest, one which she had never felt for a single person before.

Even now as she laughed and talked to Peter after going out for a night of fun it felt hot inside her chest as she looked at him and realized that she wanted to brush their lips together. In the past few dates since her first unexpected kiss Peter had been kind enough not to attack her and lightly kissed her on the cheek when they hugged farewell. Though she couldn't see the way he held himself back she was sure that he wanted much more than a peck on the cheek, but she was still mighty embarrassed to do it by herself.

When he pulled up to her house to drop her off they gave each other a fleeting glance with two different emotions bleeding off their faces. Peter's was full of a sort of determination while Marlow's held a bit of fondness for the whole night, she treasured every moment that they spent together. All the while wondering why Peter would pick such a girl as herself to be around when there were so many other women better suited for him.

"Let me walk you to the door," he said in a rush making Marlow chuckle lightly. He would have opened her door for her like a proper gentleman but the first time he'd tried she grumbled about being able to pull a handle by herself. How it wasn't romantic at all and just made her feel awkward and needy and she would lock it next time if he was going to try again.

She got out of the car slowly, that night she had chosen to wear black skinny jeans and grey boots to match her soft grey sweater; she even had a knitted headband to go with it. When Peter had first picked her up he wanted to pull her body against his and devour her right there on her doorstep, but he didn't want to cross the line. It didn't really seem to matter what she wore as long as there was some article of clothing on her person that was skin tight enough for the man to see her curves.

The jeans showed off the lithe figure of her legs and he thought it was cute how her fingers sometimes barely poked through the ends of her sleeves. Always there was the ever present smell of charcoal that had become something he looked forward to smelling whenever he saw her, because it meant that she had been drawing that day. He could imagine the way she sighed and rubbed her cheek at school, only to smudge black on her face, the expression she always made afterwards was embedded into his mind.

"Thanks for tonight, I really enjoyed myself," she grinned like a child in front of him. He loved that smile, the innocence of it as she beamed at him for a successful night of fun and games. The way she was able to so easily make someone feel better after a hard and horrible day, how she got along with people so easily before proclaiming that she loathed a certain person. Her ability to connect with almost anyone despite their age, and yet he wanted to be the only one she so easily let in.

All at once he pulled her towards himself and pushed their lips together is a bruising kiss that was still somehow gentle. For a moment Marlow was unsure of how to react, she didn't know what to expect, the usual peck on the cheek or a leap of courage as Peter tried to figure out how to put all his feelings into one kiss. There were a few agonizing seconds where Peter was almost certain that she was immediately going to pull away before she began to kiss him back. It was only a little bit but he took it as a full invitation.

Resting his hand on her neck softly he traced it lightly in circles while his other hand rested on her hip, the kiss continued on for a few more moments before they broke away from each other for air. Marlow, who wasn't used to such a long kiss, was panting slightly as she looked up at Peter with foggy eyes. The hand on her neck moved up to stroke her cheek softly with his thumb before he caught sight of her now pink lips as she cast her eyes away from his shyly. He couldn't help the flash of blue that came across his eyes as he stared down at her hungrily, to pin her against the wall of her house and ravish her.

Hugging her tightly Peter licked her ear slowly making her body jerk to get away from him but he only chuckled in response to her innocence.

"I had a wonderful night," he whispered huskily. Faster than he had moved to kiss her he turned to leave, a breathless and bright red Marlow looked after him with a bashful expression on her face. Now that he had made his move to kiss her Peter was going to wait until she took the next step and kissed him by herself.

"Goodnight," she said shakily.

"Sleep well," he responded without turning around.

Quite quickly Marlow receded into the house in order to hide her burning face from his smug eyes; she'd only really had a couple boyfriends that she'd kissed in her lifetime. Most of them had been a peck on the cheek or on the lips, one or two times it'd been a French kiss but this had been more or less a make-out session. It had been new and exciting and embarrassing, making Marlow feel like she was in gym class again being evaluated by her fellow classmates for her strange jumping jacks.

Peter reminded her to be shy around men because they could turn around and kiss her like he just had, with such force and emotion. She wondered slightly if it had been his plan to stop where he had or if he thought he could've made it further had he been with another woman. Probably the latter, from what she'd heard from the teenagers Peter was quite the tease when it came to possible bed partners. Though they assured her that if Peter were to try anything of the sort of her he would feel their wrath, she was a no fooling zone as far as they were concerned.

Walking into her room Marlow sighed in disappointment at the feeling of an empty house, she'd been spoiled by Isaac, Derek, and Erica who had become her other family in the past few weeks. Even thought her mother and father were in this house waiting for her to get home it now felt as if she was only visiting for the night. That perhaps this wasn't her home anymore than her apartment back with her roommate was. Already she missed walking over to the kitchen to see a hungry Isaac rifling through the cupboards and asking if she was going to be making anything for dinner anytime soon.

The whole house seemed too quiet, even though she knew that her mother was sleeping upstairs Marlow felt an overwhelming feeling of loneliness. Was she really related to the people that lived in this house? Or did she belong somewhere else?

Remembering the burn of Peter's lips against her own Marlow licked her lips absentmindedly before realizing what she'd done and grew as red as a tomato. If Peter had seen her do such a thing his lips would certainly turn into a smirk that he wouldn't even try to conceal, the arrogant air around him would only grow thicker. But she didn't care, in such a lonely house with lonely thoughts and lonely emotions in her head there was warmth in remembering his lips on her own.

=0=0=

"Marlow?" Her mother's ever softening voice called from upstairs.

After spending a couple nights at her parent's house and enduring a small beating from her father Derek more or less ordered her back to his place in order to get away from the violence. Whenever she spent more than one night there Isaac asked her for updates on how her father was treating her, he would then tell Derek who made the ultimate decision. Whenever his text to her phone read something like:

_Come back quickly._

There was always a relief that washed through her, as if she had finally let go of a breath that she had been holding in for a long time. Perhaps it was because she was still fearful that they didn't want her there, that if she was gone long enough they would forget about her and she wouldn't be welcome anymore. Not that they would actually do that, but after what had happened to Marlow in the past it was a lingering threat that frightened her, she didn't want to be forgotten again.

She had promised her mom that she would stay one more night because the woman was now unable to leave her bedroom anymore. In fact the very reason Marlow was back at the house was because her mom had fallen recently during the day and there had been no one there to help her. Even with her insistent bickering that Marlow should leave before her father got worse she promised to spend another night, just in case. What good was she if Marlow wasn't even there to help her mother up when she fell?

"Is there anything I can get you?" She asked walking into the room cheerfully.

"How was your date last night?" She asked with a grin on her face. Marlow blushed and smiled at the same time while remembering what had happened with Peter the night before. "You're boyfriend and girlfriend now, right?" She had always loved to gossip when she was younger.

"I guess so," she muttered sitting down next to her mother's bed slowly. Her mind had been on other things all day long, preoccupied with school and taking care of her mother she forgot her excitement on the night before.

"Have you kissed him yet?" She questioned making Marlow glance at her exasperated, if she thought taking care of her mother was going to be harmless she was wrong. "No?" She asked when her daughter didn't respond right away. "I would have kissed him a long time ago if he was my boyfriend," she said with a soft cough.

"Mom!" She exclaimed wondering when the last time they had talked about boys was. She could recall when she was in middle school and Marlow had been exceptionally shy and her mother would point out boys she thought would be cute in high school. It had been such an awkward conversation when she was younger.

"Just saying," she responded knowing that such talk would take her daughter's mind off worrying about classes and her father.

"Peter kissed me," Marlow murmured shyly before looking away from her mother. The older woman lit up instantly and grinned ear to ear excitedly. She loved seeing her daughter so shy and embarrassed about her relationship with said man, it reminded her of when she was first dating her father. How they sneaked around at night when Marlow's grandfather thought that she was too young to be dating. "Wait, how would you know that he's attractive if you haven't even seen him yet?" Marlow asked realizing that Peter and her mother hadn't met yet.

"He sounds attractive," she shrugged. "Do you have any pictures of him?" She questioned hoping to score a look at her daughter's big crush.

"I might have one on my phone; I think I took a picture of a silly hat that he tried on. He did not like it," she laughed at the memory while going for her phone. "Oh, look at this grumpy face," she chuckled giving the phone to her mother.

It was strange, laughing and visiting so normally with her mother again after all that had happened perhaps Marlow had ignored the good parts of her old family. The part that missed her brother but didn't blame her for it, the person that still cared so much for her and yet she felt as if this house was a burden to her. Her smile faltered even as she looked at the picture of Peter wearing a moose hat, she'd thought many times about her mother when she lived at home. But somewhere in the hype of being accepted by someone else and finally having people who knew what was going on and still wanted to help her.

Her mother smiled at her before starting to flip through some of her other photographs, most of them were of how the clouds looked looming over the trees. Her mother would occasionally laugh at a snap of Derek, or the teens, Marlow hid her regret under a forced grin that her mother saw through immediately.

"Don't make that face," she muttered placing the phone on the bed carefully. "I know what you're thinking about," she stated taking her hand carefully.

"Mom," Marlow started but her mother stopped her short.

"I want you to know how proud of you I am," her voice was ever so kind as she spoke. "I know you feel guilty for not being here but I don't want you here, I love you but," her voice broke off with a choke.

It was silent while her mother collected her words and Marlow thought everything she had said over for a moment. It was never about making her mother proud of her that she came back to take care of her, there wasn't something that she was trying to prove by coming back. Her mother was dying and she wasn't going to let her pass on by herself, and that part of her resolve had not faded.

"It kills me more than this disease to see and hear what he does to you, I'm so sorry I can't protect you like I used to," she cracked and gave Marlow a teary eyed expression.

"This isn't your fault," she tried to convince her.

"Go back to them, visit me when he's not here, but don't stay the night," she said in hushed tones. "Come back Thursday at lunch, we can talk more about this guy you like, now go get your things, go!" She ushered her out of the room with soft whispers.

Marlow was excited now, to have her mother support her decision to leave the house, it wasn't that she was unaware of how the woman felt about her father beating her. Sometimes at night if she walked upstairs to check on her when her father had a night shift she could hear her mother crying, and it broke her heart just as much as it broke her mothers. Did it make her happy that her mom had dismissed her to where she really wanted to be? Of course it did!

At first she had thought that the woman would kick her out of the house while having the sole reason of protecting her from the man that was once her father. She would come back to visit a mother who no longer wanted her in the house because of what happened to her when she was there. But of course her mother was smarter than that, she shouldn't have expected any less from the woman, this wasn't goodbye for her, not yet.

She almost tripped down the stairs in her hurry to get to her room and pack the clothes she had left at the house for when she came to stay the night. There was a huge weight that had almost flown off her shoulders with knowing that she wouldn't have to deal with her father again unless they passed by each other on the street. No more cowering under his fists or wearing sweaters because her arms were covered in bruises, she could wear freaking short sleeves for once, her arms would finally be able to breathe!

After packing her bags she sprinted back up the stairs to hug her mom tightly, whispering a fervent but heartfelt good bye before turning to go back down the stairs. The soft voice of the woman behind her stopped her short when she was reminded of the phone she had left her mother to look at.

Just as she turned to go back into the bedroom Marlow heard the front door open and close before a shiver washed over her coldly. Turning back around to look over her shoulder Marlow saw her father taking in her current state at the end of the stairs by the front door. A bag full of clothes by the door and a rucksack of art supplies on her shoulder as she stood on the second floor above him. His eyes came up to stare at her eerily as his expression changed from angry to amused at what was in front of him.

"Someone thinks she's leaving," he drawled taking careful steps up the stairs. Marlow stared at him fearfully, frozen in place as he made his way up to her like a snake approaching an injured sparrow on the ground. "Would you really leave your family?" His voice rose in volume along with his anger. Taking a step away from him she mumbled something under her breath before glaring at him defiantly, his bitterness flared. Bounding up the last few steps he grabbed her by the hair painfully. "Speak up when you talk," he snarled.

"I don't consider you my family," she spat out at him. He smirked before slapping her hard across the face and pushing her into the ground. Walking over top her mother's room he closed the door carefully before shoving something up against it, with how weak her mother was she wouldn't be able to do anything against it.

"But I'm your father," it almost sounded like she had wounded him.

"You haven't been my father since Carson died," she growled at him. After everything that the man had done to her she was done trying to cover for him, this was no longer the man she once knew. He'd died the same day they put her brother in the ground, there was no longer any forgiveness for this monster before her. No more held back comments, or taking the punches he threw without a fight, the only person in this house she cared about was her mother.

This man wasn't her family anymore, there was someone else waiting for her to get home. Her mom and dad used to be the only family she had ever known, with what had happened she thought it normal that he beat her every night, after all she believed that her brother should have lived as well. But it was different now, in that building full of teenagers that burned French fries and talked about high school classes there was a sense of belonging. Something that she hadn't felt with her father in a long time, and she wanted to go back to it.

"You don't deserve to say his name," he bit out at her. Grabbing her wrist tightly he jerked her to her knees awkwardly before grabbing her hair again and throwing her back into the ground. Her vision swam as black dots clouded her vision. "Do you think you can just leave after you let him die? I'll never let you leave, you're going to suffer here forever with me," he seethed stepping on her hand as she tried to get up. Her crunched down on her hand again with his shoe when she tried to move and there was a sickening crack that radiated pain throughout her body, he'd probably broken a few of her fingers.

She pushed against his weight above her, throwing him off for a second so she could roll onto her back and glare up at him with a cold expression. Kicking his foot away from her he reached for her again but she scrambled away until her back his the wall next to the stairs.

"Are you going to leave with that man?" He laughed suddenly. "You slept with him didn't you? Tricked him into bed just so you could get away, or maybe he raped you? Did he make you moan like the whore you are?" His voice was cruel and stole Marlow's words away from her before she could even think of them.

"He would never," his words shocked her enough for her dad to be able to grab her. He picked her up by the collar of her shirt and held her against the wall in a bruising grip that made her wince slightly. Out of all the emotions she was feeling the sadness that she had always felt for her father who had lost his mind and left her. He wasn't the only one hurt by Carson's death, Marlow had lost her brother, her best friend, and yet all her dad could say was that he wished she had died instead.

"If Carson was alive to see this, he would be ashamed of you," a few tears slid down her cheeks.

His immediate response was anger, he slammed her against the wall harshly, and her head smashed painfully and jarred her vision, blasting pain in a sharp agony through her brain. The light and image of her father in front of her began to lessen as she lost consciousness slowly, though she did make sure to catch his gaze. Her eyes now overflowing with tears she let out a whimper that made her father freeze and loosen his grip, he was just about ready to smash her again when she spoke.

"Why did you take my father away from me?" She asked in a broken voice.

Now it was his turn to be baffled and shocked, as if someone had woken him from a dream he jerked away from her quickly, pushing her ever so softly in the process. The last thing Marlow remembered seeing was her father cowering away from her as her body leaned into thin air before her body crumpled after falling down the stairs.

=0=0=

Peter and Derek had been talking about the newly returned Omega that had been gone for a few weeks before returning to cause trouble again. Should they catch the blither and put him out of his misery or maim him and let him off with a warning never to come back? Though Peter was pretty adamant about the first choice after the stray had wandered dangerously close to some pretty important things.

They had met with the entire pack the night before after Peter had had his little date with Marlow, the other wolves had growled lightly with envy at the scent of freshness on the older wolf. There was always a degree of jealously that came to anyone that got to hang out with Marlow alone, shouldn't she be shared with everybody and not just Peter? Even if they were technically going out Erica could argue a pretty good point about how it was vital to her life that Marlow spend time with her. Though they would usually ignore the girl because that argument was simply outrageous and quite frankly Peter didn't care.

In the end Derek and Isaac felt the most trusted because they knew her secret and had her faith that they would keep it safe, though Marlow had been pretty upset when Derek first let it slip that he knew. She didn't talk to Isaac for days and by the end of that week the beta was a whimpering mess, it was strange how she had so much power over them without even meaning to.

Tonight the beta's were on guard duty, to report any change in the territory or new smell of a wolf that they didn't recognize, they were going to catch this sucker once and for all.

While they were talking about how to make sure their territory would be safe the next time around Derek's phone rang insistently.

"If it's one of the kids they'll leave a message on what they've found," Derek muttered going back to the map of Beacon Hills.

He started to talk to Peter again when the message beeped and he paused to listen to the speaker, trying to guess ahead of time who it might be. There was a bit of silence before a thud could be heard followed by a shout, a huffing heavy voice wafted into their ears.

"A lady friend of yours?" Peter joked before Derek shushed him darkly.

"Please," the person on the other end spoke ever so softly. "Help her, please," they pleaded frantically while muffled shouts could be heard from somewhere else in the background.

Derek was immediately alert and edgy; if this was who he thought it was there was no time to spare, even Peter sensed the direness of the call. Though it would all depend on who was in trouble if he was going to get up and help, if it was merely an acquaintance of Derek who cared.

"You have to save Marlow, she's crying, please."

At the mention of her name Peter lurched to his feet and shifted so quickly Derek couldn't even trace the transformation with his eyes, he didn't even bother with waiting for the door and simply jumped out the window instead. Derek shifted and ran after him quickly, doing his best to keep up even with the freakish speed the wolf in front of him was currently running at.

The smell of blood hit his nose before a mournful howl split through the air and he made it to Marlow's parent's house to see that Peter had broken down the door. Derek could hear Peter whimpering inside the house, he could already predict what had happened before even going into the house, his blood boiled all the same at the thought of it. Two other smells caught his nose as she walked through the ruined door, the saltiness of tears and an overbearing amount of regret that was coming from upstairs.

But he ignored it after his eyes caught sight of the girl cradled gently in the now human looking Peter's arms; her heartbeat was weak and small. The pitiful sound seemed to reverberate powerfully in his ears as he took in the sight of her fragile human form.

Her cheek was red, where she must have been slapped harshly, one of her hands was beginning to bruise darkly and a couple of her fingers were broken out of place. Derek's eyes burned red dangerously as he realized the stench from upstairs must be her father, the culprit of everything that had happened to Marlow. He could smell fresh blood on her head from a gash that was beginning to turn her head crimson. There was an urge that welled up within him, a need, to walk up the stairs and rip apart the man that could have done such a thing to his daughter, but he had to control himself. After everything that had happened with his pack he didn't need more murder to add to the list.

"We have to leave now," Derek growled at Peter harshly.

The beta beneath him was looking at the girls uncovered arms; usually they were clothed with sweaters that she claimed kept her warm because she was always cold. There were bruises dotting all over his skin, scars from broken bottles that had healed only enough to leave a small souvenir behind. His eyes burned even more ferociously than Derek's as he nuzzled her pale forehead beneath his chin lovingly, the cold wetness of her blood smeared against his neck. He stood up with her in his arms slowly before turning towards Derek with a dead look in his eyes, pushing the girl into his Alpha's arms he turned to go up the stairs.

"No," Derek snarled at him darkly. Peter didn't even turn around to look at him when he spoke, what he said made Derek shiver.

"You want to kill him too, look what he did to her," he all but howled.

"I know, but we don't need this right now, we have to leave," Derek urged him sternly.

"I can't just let this go!" He shouted darkly.

After hearing Peter's distraught cry into the night the rest of the pack followed the noise back to the source, Boyd was the first to run into the house. Taking in the scene of Peter halfway up the stairs while Derek stood behind him with the limp body of a girl in his arms, a mixture of blood and freshness stunned him into silence.

"What happened?" He asked turning just in time to see Peter jerk back to look at him with vibrant blue eyes. Isaac ran in a few seconds later, stopping just as Boyd had before taking in the scene with a similar anger that Derek had felt earlier.

"Marlow's father did this," Derek's voice was soft as Boyd growled darkly.

"And I'm going to kill him," Peter said simply before turning to continue up the stairs.

"No you're not," the Alpha seethed. He had to control himself with Marlow in his arms; the girl's heartbeat was only getting weaker as they spoke.

"Look at her!" He turned and shouted at them. "In the time that she's been here she's become like pack to you, what has he done to her," he choked. "Those damn sweaters, she wore them to hide the bruises and scars, every night she was going home to that monster. She cried and carried those wounds around with her everyday and we never suspected a thing, because she was always fucking smiling we figured everything was fine!" He was breathing heavily by the end of his rant and the audience had grown by one Scott. "I'm going to kill him." They were silent for a moment before Isaac spoke up.

"She wouldn't want that."

=0=0=

It was hard to open her eyes at first, her body felt like led so much that she could move nothing but her eyes, and even then the light was too blinding for her to see anything. Opening them for a second Marlow was sure she saw the blurry shape of a brown haired lady in front of her before she was pulled back into unconsciousness. What had happened to her to exhaust her body this much? Had she run a marathon and forgotten all about it? Perhaps hiked up a mountain or fallen down a hill?

The next time she woke up her brain assaulted her with the memories of what had happened with her father, the last moment when a look of terror washed over his face. Maybe she had finally gotten through to him with her question, or he had just realized that he could go to jail for murder. Again her mind pulled her back into the dark after the weight of her memories flooded into her brain.

Finally her eyes glazed open slowly, due to the lighting of the room Marlow guessed that it was probably later in the day due to the dimness of the room. Which was fine with her it meant that her eyes wouldn't burn nearly as much when met with illumination, and perhaps she would be able to see after a few blinks?

Shifting ever so softly seemed to stir someone in the room awake, though she had not yet realized who was in the room as of yet, as her eyes adjusted she was met with the careful eyes of Stiles staring back at her. She almost gasped in surprise before catching sight of Erica, Isaac, Scott, and Peter also sleeping in the room, there was no need to wake them up right now. Not when she was sure that she could pass out again at any moment.

"Does everyone know?" Her voice was shaky and quiet as she asked him this.

Marlow had expected some type of long anger from him, it was Stiles after all, but he simply nodded his head solemnly. As if he was bringing news of a death in the family. For Marlow it was almost the same reaction as if someone did die, she frowned pitifully and painfully before her eyes began to flood with tears. She figured that she would tell everyone after she was sure that they would be able to handle it, instead they had found her bleeding and broken on the ground, what would they think of her now?

"Damn it," she cried softly. Slowly pulling her hands out from beneath the covers she looked at her bandaged wrist and broken fingers mournfully before covering her eyes with her damaged hands. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Stiles wasn't sure what to do, thankfully Derek had smelled the saltiness of tears from down the hallway and decided to see which wolf was crying now, everyone here had been such big babies for the past few days. But it wasn't a wolf crying this time, it was the very person they had all been crying over for the last 72 hours, Stiles looked at him desperately as he took in the sight of her.

"What's wrong?" His voice startled her out of her self hate.

The new noise in the room jostled a few others awake, their excitement immediately spiking when they saw that she was awake. Then they realized that she was crying and looked at Stiles and Derek bitterly as if it was their fault. Peter looked at her with a pained expression on his face, if only he had known what was going on with her none of this would have happened, if he had realized what she was hiding he wouldn't have found her in such a way. The feeling of terror that he'd felt when he saw her lying lifeless on the stairs was still fresh in his mind, in that horrible moment he'd realized something. Marlow was the one that had pulled him out of his bitterness, after everything that had happened with his family burning she was his refuge.

He realized that he couldn't lose her, that he loved her, the rest of the pack felt much the same way. They itched with questions, wanting to make sure she was okay, perhaps she was in some sort of pain, it wouldn't be surprising with how she looked.

After what Isaac had said the night they found her Peter fought with himself for a few moments before turning away from the stairs poisonously. Taking Marlow from Derek gently before running off to get help, Scott had already called his mother and Deaton because none of them wanted to leave her in the hospital. Derek's eyes had been glowing bright red since he walked into Marlow's house, just like all the other wolves whose eyes burned in the night. He made sure to know out Marlow's father and fix the place up to where it looked like Marlow had simply picked herself up, though in reality if they had not come she would still be laying there.

In the flurry of their anger none of them remembered that her mother was trapped inside her room until the next day, but Isaac went to her house to make sure the woman was okay. She cried with relief at the mention of her daughter being in safe hands, though it turned to grief when she learned that she had not yet woken. Her father was gone when he arrived at the house, so he took care of her mother until the woman kicked him out of the house so he could go back to her.

Finally she had woken up but she was crying the pack helpless and unsure of what to do Isaac understood her anguish; she never wanted them to find out about her father this way. To know that her secret had probably hurt them and made them wonder why she had kept it from him, did she not trust them?

"Damn it," her voice was coarse and surprised them. She didn't remove her hands from her eyes, because she was sure that her eyes were puffy and red, but she would at least apologize. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you," her voice broke and set them on edge.

_Please stop crying_, is what they wanted to say but they let her finish for she was finally telling them the truth, even if they had already figured it out the hard way.

"What happened after your brother died?" Stiles asked softly.

"My dad was broken and finally decided it was my fault, and that if I had died instead everything would have been batter. He wouldn't have lost his little boy, I never blamed him or disagreed," she explained softly. Peter muffled a growl next to her bitterly; Derek shot him a warning glance.

"You still loved him and didn't want to call the police, or leave him alone with your mother," Scott said imagining how angry he would be if something happened to his mother.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Erica cut in anxiously. She had been restless the last few days, more so than the others though not as much as Peter, Perhaps they were on the same level.

"My friends in high school found out and when I told them not to help they called the cops on my dad, but I didn't want to see him get taken away. He was still the man who carried me to bed when I was younger," her voice cracked. "So I lied to them, and my friends left me alone and told everyone else to stay away, I didn't blame them," she finally let her hands fall away from her face. She looked at them with a hatred in her eyes that baffled them, she was so angry at herself, for always being so weak and needy."I never told you because I didn't want to lose you."

"You're never going to get rid of us now," Erica stated adamantly. "You're family now, we'll never leave you," she said as the rest of the pack nodded their heads in agreement.

"But I don't deserve you," she muttered with a look of agony on her face.

"Shut up," Peter growled next to her. The teen's turned to him sharply but his glare quieted them before they could even speak. "Get out," he spat at them.

Derek glared at them in warning, understanding that Peter and Marlow had to get through this by themselves. The teen's filed out of the room slowly, taking glances at Marlow as she hoisted herself into a sitting position, wincing at the soreness of her body. Finally the door closed and they were alone, Marlow was ready for Peter to explode, to yell at her for keeping something so important from him.

"Peter," she started before he stood up and hugged her gently. There was no anger that she could sense in him, nothing to suggest that he was bitter at her secret from him, he was careful not to hurt her. "I'm sorry," she tried again before he hushed her soothingly.

"I was so scared when I picked up your limp body, I was actually terrified," he whispered into her ear softly. "I understand why you didn't tell us, I'm angry but I understand and I won't pester you about it, because I know it must have caused you great pain," he said pulling away slowly so he could look in her eyes. She barely nodded in front of him but looked incredibly grateful that he was going to leave it alone.

"Just thinking that I wouldn't be able to see you anymore, that you might leave me after knowing what I had kept from you. It hurt too much, that I would be too much of a hassle," she sputtered with a whisper. "I wanted to keep this feeling for as long as I could," she murmured looking away from his eyes ashamed.

It was quiet for a moment and Peter was sure that there were six pairs of ears listening on the other side of the door and throughout the rest of the house. But he didn't care, hearing that Marlow was afraid of losing him ignited all the burning sensations that he had been feeling every time they went on a date or when she smiled at him.

"I know I was selfish," he cut her off sharply with a kiss. A soft careful meeting of their lips that silenced her.

"Shut up," he said again before going in for another kiss. "I love you."

* * *

**AN: I totally thought this was chapter seven, and seven is my favorite number so I made it awesome and dramatic, but this was chapter six... Now I have to make chapter seven something fun before getting into all the concluding junk.**

**What did you think? Peter said the lovely! Were you kind of hoping someone was going to kill her father? Tell me what you think in a review or whatever.**

**Thanks for reading.**


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